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ktheist · 3 years ago

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best friend’s best friend | m

Muses: best friend!heir!jeongguk x heiress!reader x best friend’s best friend!heir!taehyung

Words: 23.9k

Themes: e2l, chaebol au, established relationship, college to working au, slight arranged marriage au, best friend’s best friend au, frat au, wedding au, all the drama in kdramas au.

Warnings: depiction of toxic family and abuse. Cigarette use.

Clickbait warnings: unprotected sex, big dick!tae, tae has abs, overuse of the words “best friend”, jeongguk and taehyung bickering.

Moodboards: college arc | after graduation arc | wedding

Post-scripture: side story (jk)

Story time.

You don’t know why everyone thinks you hate Kim Taehyung. The motherfucker has a body that looks like it’s been sculpted by the gods and a face that’s blessed by the goddess. You want to fuck Kim Taehyung.

Even Kim Taehyung thinks you despise him with a burning passion apparently.

“It’s because I’m Gguk’s new best friend, isn’t it?” The alcohol coats a fine sheen on his lips as his eyes glaze, “that’s why you hate me.”

“Hate’s a strong word,” you giggle, “I have to notice you to hate you.”

The wide-eyed gaze was something you didn’t see coming. You thought he’d moan in faux pain, place a hand on his chest and tell you—

“Ah,” Taehyung sighs, a somber smile on his lips, “that kinda does break my heart.”

Maybe it’s the alcohol but you think you hear something shattering somewhere even though you’re the only two that’s awake in this mini-castle of a frathouse at this ungodly hour. The others are passed out in unconventional parts of the house.

As if on cue, Jung Hoseok whose face was planted on the counter, dead to the world, suddenly snores. It’s like he’s telling you he’s right here with that obnoxious tone that Jeongguk started using with you. At least you know where he got that from.

“Don’t get over it,” compared to your bright giggle just now, this time, the smirk on your lips and the light that hits half of your face makes you look like a temptress — a mistress of the night.

You suppose Jeongguk isn’t the only one who’s changed.

Taehyung laughs. Somber.

Maybe it’s the alcohol but you’re reaching up to trap Taehyung’s lush curly locks around your finger even though you don’t have the right to. And the worst thing is; you don’t even feel bad for what you said, smiling coquettishly at the feather-like feeling of your fingerpads grazing his tresses.

“Pretty,” is all you say.

And pretty, he is as he blinks those rich brown eyes — they look like the gods had scooped up a few stars and poured them in his eyes.

He laughs and you notice how he’s leaning over, his head just a few inches away from yours. The smile on his lips is heartbreaking. The words that escape them, infuriating.

“You’ll hate me for real but—”

Before you can even register what it means, he presses his lips on yours. The scent of beer in his breath makes you want to push him away. But you’re rooted in your seat, shocked and motionless.

When he pulls away, his eyes are hazier than usual, gaze sweeping down to your lips as he bites his. It’s as though he’s considering kissing you again. As though he had his first taste of strawberry shortcake and he’s thinking of devouring it all in one go because of how sweet it tastes.

But that look of his soon becomes more focused. And your hand stings from the smacking sound that echoes in the quietude.

You see red. You feel red.

And that’s the thing; you don’t know if it’s anger, lust or a mixture of both; passion.

But your hands are grasping his shirt and your mouth is melding against his. The same Heneiken on his breath is doing a better job at intoxicating you than when you’re drinking it with your own lips.

Your knees are on either side of his thighs. Taehyung’s hands are fumbling with the button of your jeans and his shirt just hit the wooden floor. A gasp falls from your lips when you feel his mouth on your skin just above your belly button. Warmth floods your system and Taehyung looks up at you. His eyes still sparkle like the cosmos but they’re hooded.

And he looks like a beast that’s about to devour his prey.

That happened six months ago.

Six peaceful months without so much as an interruption to your daily routine; wake up, go to class, part time work, get back, do the assignments —rinse and repeat.

So it’s always the weekends you look forward to.

“Hey, loser, get in!” A sleek black car purrs to a stop in front of the bus stop you’re waiting at. Even if the window isn’t rolled all the way down, you already know who it is; your loyal chauffeur who kept insisting you hang out every Friday night, Jeon Jeongguk.

After a long dreadful shift, you welcome his annoying grin and newfound arrogance.

“Oh, Gguk! I missed your dumb face!” You pull his head in for a hug and ruffle his hair. The sound of his laughter fills the car, not at all minding your manhandling.

But the playfulness in the air easily disappears as a third voice echoes from the back, “Hey, Taehyung how are you? Oh I’m great, thanks for asking.”

You give the fine yet uninvited specimen a once over (that denim jacket is looking exceptionally ravishing on him) before turning back to the sheepishly smiling Jeongguk.

“What’s he doing here?” After a few forced encounters too many, you don’t even bother hiding your reluctance to welcome Kim Taehyung into your sphere.

“Oh, princess, you’re breaking my heart,” the chestnut haired man says, hands on his chest as he puckers his lower lip, the sight reminding you of a pomeranian.

“Jeon Jeongg—“

“Okay, okay! We got chipotle before coming here! Don’t kill me, I'm just a chauffeur.” He declares but still leans slightly to the side and away from you as switches between looking at the road and glancing at you.

“Chipotle Friday was our thing.” You gasp, jaw on the ground.

“Not anymore,” Taehyung mumbles to himself, hiding his smirk behind his hand that’s attempting to scratch his nose.

“And it still is!” Jeongguk argues, “With… a little twist to it.”

“Did you get me any cause I’m starving and I’m one betrayal away from eating off someone’s over gelled head,” you huff, pouting.

Retaining that puckered state proves to be harder when you see the signature jalapeños trapped in a circle stamp on the paper bags.

“Wait, let me check which one’s yours—“ Taehyung announces, sifting through the two similar-sized bags, “yep, here’s yours, salads with extra onions and no lettuce.”

His hand lingers over yours longer than you would like. The spot where his finger pads grazed tingling with his ghostly warmth even after you retract your hand back to your lap.

“Wait— salads?” You echoe, the mixture of greens peeking back at you before you turn to Jeongguk.

You distantly remember Taehyung mentioning additional onion ringlets (you hate onions) and it’s too early to point fingers but—

“Uh, not the burrito?” At least there’s a sense of confusion in Jeongguk’s voice.

“Gee, I don’t know, I wasn’t the one ordering for my best friend for chipotle Friday which is a tradition I’ve been celebrating for the past—”

“Actually… It was me, Jeongguk got a call so he told me to order for you and when I was about to ask what you want, he’s gone poof and I couldn’t really text him to ask ‘cause he was on a call which by the way, looked real important,” the voice at the back chimes in, the faux apology in his voice being the reason your hand’s clenching around the poor thin material of the paper bag, “I thought girls liked salads so I ordered that...”

“You thought girls like salads,” it seems that in the presence of Kim Taehyung, your brain short circuits and all you’re able to do is repeat his words like a child who’s just learning how to speak, “you know what? I don’t know how those girls got into your, misogynistic, stereotyping, slutty bed but—“

“Didn’t take much,” Taehyung shrugs casually, “I just… show them the side of a tipsy, heartbroken player. You know what they do? They take pity on me and let me take them to their bed.”

A smirk curls beautifully on his lips as you feel your heart thump in your chest. You see it again.

Red.

This time, you’re sure it’s not the flimsy, in the spur of the moment kind of heat that’s spreading through your body like lava pouring from the holes in your heart.

“I-I think Tae bought some of everything from the menu for supper— maybe you pay Tae for the burrito?” Jeongguk’s careful voice cuts through the tension.

“I said for after I got some action done,” Taehyung corrects, cockiness dripping off his tone, “but sure, no need to pay me anything, can’t have princess here turning into a witch when she’s hungry.”

“I don’t want it,” you decline before Taehyung can even say anything, shooting him a glare before focusing your gaze on the road.

The rest of the ride is filled with the sound of whatever song in Jeongguk’s playlist.

Music was blaring from every inch of the familiar sorority house when Jeongguk parked a few ways away from the pastel pink and cream colored mansion. You think you saw Park Jimin, one of Jeongguk’s many best friends, making out with a girl, a senior of Jeongguk, behind the bush.

The moment you step in, Jeongguk’s hand finds its way around your waist. Well, not really. It hovers a few inches from your body, occasionally brushing against your back, telling you that Jeongguk’s thwarting away the dumb drunks that tried to have a feel of your ass. It’s an unspoken rule that you stick with him throughout the parties you go to together— actually, he went as far as banning you from parties that he’s not invited to because, in his words, “I won’t be there to protect you!”

You don’t know when he developed this new savior-bodyguard complex but you internally admit that it’s nice to have someone you can trust besides your girlfriends.

But the warmth of that thought goes out of the window when a familiar tall, chestnut haired stature steps into your periphery and starts shoving Sung Jaehoon off as you walk.

“The fuc— Hey, ____!It’s Jaehoon? From class—!” Jaehoon’s shout gets drowned by the music.

“Nice,” Jeongguk grins, raising his fist for a mini fist bump with Taehyung.

“That was unnecessary,” you comment, despite the relief that floods your system for dodging the bullet with Sung Jaehoon.

He’s always had that leering look in his eyes that makes the hairs on your skin stands.

“What? He was in my way,” Taehyung blinks.

His acting skills sure improved though his lies need some work.

“Gguk! Tae! ____!” Hoseok waves the two men over, he’s standing with Park Seonghwa, Song Mingi, Ahn Yoojin, Choi Yena and another girl whose name you can’t remember, where they’re starting to set up the beer pong table.

Taehyung’s the first to approach Hoseok, doing some complex, not-so-secret handshake and fist bumping the other two boys. You don’t miss the way Jeongguk’s doe eyes widen just the slightest bit at the sight of the what’s-her-face girl standing awkwardly next to Seonghwa.

“Ggukkie,” you tug on Jeongguk’s sleeves, smiling that smile that he knows he shouldn’t say no to because he’s already on minus 10 points for bringing an outsider to your Chipotle Friday, “can you get me a drink, please?”

“Sure, you got it,” his face, which was stiff and awkward throughout the car ride, finally brightens up.

‘You’ll forgive me with this right?’ Is spelled out in his expression.

And with that, he disappears into the throng of crowds. In the meantime you greet the two girls.

“Oh my god, Yena, I love your bracelet! Is that Cartier?” You fawn over the simple but classy lover’s handcuff around her wrist.

“It’s from her fiancé— it’s an engagement bracelet,” Yoojin coos, nudging her blushing friend’s shoulder.

“Girl, congrats! When’s the engagement party? You’ve got to tell me a week— no, two weeks before that! Gucci takes eons to get custom orders delivered, but my mom’s friends with the branch manager in Seoul so it’ll take two weeks max.” You nod, affirming.

“____, you don’t have to get me an engagement gift, you being there is enough,” she grasps your hands, eyes shining. If you’d squint, you’d probably see the dollar symbol reflected in them.

“Ignore her, she’s nice like that.” Yoojin waves a dismissive hand, envy on painting her face as she jokes, “You can give it to me if you don’t want it,”

“I’ll come… only if you accept my gift.” You squeeze back Yena’s hand.

That’s when a foreign voice speaks up, “hi, ____.”

A girl around 5’4 with straight cut bangs and mid-length fawn colored hair greets. All of a sudden, the image of Jeongguk blushing and giggling while talking to her flashes at the back of your mind.

“Hi… ” you trail off, lips opened contemplatively before you give up, “what was your name again?”

“Yoojung— Chae Yoojung, we met last week at the bowling alley,” her awkward smile is painful to return.

“Right, Seonghwa’s cuzzie,” you fake a bulb going off your head before frowning, “do you know anyone in Delta Gamma?”

Silence laps in between you as Yena and Yoojin share a look, holding back a giggle as Yoojung’s mouth parts in contemplation of whether she should state the obvious or not; that you, Yena, Yoojin, Hoseok, Jeongguk and basically everyone you know is someone she knows too.

“I like your Nike’s, Yoojung,” Yoojin compliments, a sickly sweet smile on her glossy rosy lips.

“O-oh, thank—” Yoojung glances down at her white sneakers but before she can finish, Yena cuts her off.

“It’s missing the swoosh though,” she giggles.

“Maybe Off-White? But they usually don’t have an all white design…” you trail off, confusion painting your face.

“It’s just some no name brand,” Yoojung finally says, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“Oh,” Yoojin is the first to break the silence amidst the shouts and blaring music, “makes sense, I guess.”

“They’re opening a new Louis Vuitton branch next week in Myeongdong, maybe you can come with us and get some genuine sneakers,” Yena suggests.

“I don’t think I can, I have a project due next week—”

“It’s probably above Yoojung’s parents’ pay grade,” Yoojin cuts Yoojung off and a scoff escapes Yena’s lips.

Before anyone else notices the soft snivel that comes from Yoojung, Jeongguk finally pops up next to you. His chest rising and falling as if he’s just come back from a run. There’s only one red cup in his hand and the other is grasping a chipotle paper bag.

“Look, I know you said you didn’t want it but Tae bought everything on the menu because he didn’t know what to get you. He was kidding when he said he bought it for supper,” Jeongguk is still insisting on that supper excuse, “but please, eat something instead of drinking on an empty stomach.”

So that explains the just-came-back-from-a-run state he’s in. He went out, jogged a few blocks to his car to get the chipotle.

It’s a moment later that he finally notices the girls, “Oh hey, Yoojung.”

There’s a hint of excitement in his voice.

“I’ll eat, but Ggukkie,” you wrap an arm around his waist while Yena and Yoojin start gushing over the minimal gesture which isn’t alien at all to you and Jeongguk’s friendship, “I don’t wanna eat alone.”

He hesitates for the briefest moment, looking between you and the girl who has her head hung low, a clear contrast from the timid but sunny complexion she had earlier.

“Yeah, totally. Maybe we can eat near the pool? There’s a lot of chairs there.” He suggests and you grin, nodding.

You bid Yoojin and Yena a temporary goodbye, shaking your head at the way they’re making a thumbs up gesture in support of whatever they think is going to happen in Jeongguk’s car. Yoojung only waves a reluctant hand at both you and Jeongguk (but maybe more for Jeongguk).

“Gguk, did you get a drink for you?” You stop him once you’re outside of the door, the lights changing from blue to red to green pouring onto the pool and those brave few who dove in in this cold weather.

“Nah, I don’t feel like drinking,” he shrugs but before he can take another step forward, you stop him with a hand on his chest, the sky blue acrylics on your hand contrasting against the black material of his shirt.

“Go tell Taehyung he’s the DD and go get yourself a drink. I’ll wait here,” you snatch the only red cup and the chipotle bag from his hand.

“Okay,” the doe eyed bambi finally agrees and disappears into the crowd for the nth time of the night.

There are some uninhabited lounge chairs but it’s susceptible to being splashed by the skinny dippers and you’re not too keen on tasting chlorine on your burrito. If Jeongguk grabbed the burrito among the quesadilla, wrap and whatever else on the menu, that is. So you take a seat on the grass near the shrubs of violets.

“Whew, that was brutal.” A familiar baritone drums in your ears as a man with wild curly chestnut hair lowers himself next to you.

“That seat’s taken,” you grumble and so does your stomach, it’s as if the universe is set on making today the worst day of your life.

And yet you can’t help but be hyper aware of the godly specimen Kim Taehyung is. His wavy chestnut hair curls over his forehead and makes his eyes look softer than they are when he had his hair pushed back, revealing his smooth forehead.

Taehyung looks around him before meeting your gaze, “this— this is grass How can it be taken?”

“It is,” you say dismissively.

But he lets out a resigned sigh, making himself comfortable and sitting crossed legged.

“Anywho, a little birdy told me there’s a princess in the garden that needs company when eating,” he seems to be in a good mood from the way he’s teasing you.

You didn’t notice before but you can see the outline of his bicep as he holds the water bottle a few inches from his chest and twists the cap open. His tanned complexion appears richer when the turning amber light from inside hits him. And his Adam’s apple, bobbing as he downs the water from the bottle he just unscrewed — once, it bobbed against your lips as you kissed his throat and rode him.

“Where’d Jeongguk run off to?” You quiz, pushing your ridiculous fantasies and begin unwrapping the burrito that smells exceptionally enticing despite its coldness.

“To console Yoojung. She looked like she got a call from home saying her dog died.”

“Tragic,” you mindlessly shrug, not really registering what he’s saying.

“Yeah, sounds just like you, huh? Eating without a care in the world after picking on some poor defenseless girl who just… wants to be friends,” despite his words, it doesn’t seem like he cares that much either for said ‘poor defenseless girl’.

“That’s just a trial run, she’s gonna face more than that if they start dating— Jeongguk and her. We don’t take outsiders coming into our circle too kindly. Especially if they’re a poor defenseless girl. Jeongguk’s the type to take the person he likes to high end restaurants, spoil her with gifts —he almost bought an apartment for him and his last girlfriend to move into with— and she won’t be able to do one of those ‘you pay for the tix and I’ll pay for the popcorn’ kind of thing like she would with normal guys because she can’t afford to pay for these restaurants. With people like Yoojin and Yena hanging around Jeongguk, she’s gonna start seeing the difference between their worlds sooner rather than later and you know what she’s gonna do? She’s gonna dip. Like everyone else did.” A laugh escapes you. Dry. Humorless.

“That’s tough,” Taehyung sighs, neck craning as he looks up at the starless sky, “but Jeongguk’s not entirely innocent, is he?”

He meets your gaze knowingly.

“What do you mean?”

“C’mon, you’re smarter than that, princess. You know the guy’s a dumbass when it comes to girls.”

“He’s…” you think back to all the times when Jeongguk’s troubled by his relationships. He always comes to you whenever he has problems with his girlfriends of different timelines and most of the time, the answer would be staring at him right in the face but he still wouldn’t get it. Some time later, you’d hear they broke up.

“Well, it’s not his fault— they couldn’t communicate and talk it out with him.”

Taehyung laughs and this time, it’s an actual laugh with his hand on his stomach and his mouth wide open that he’s at risk of swallowing a fly or two.

“You two really are something.” He finally says, wiping off a tear from his eyes.

Your cheeks are hot. The half-eaten burrito being squished in your hand as you glare at him, lips pressed into a thin line.

“I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” he holds up his hands in a placating manner, “Actually, Hoseok was telling him about how you were kind of… hostile towards Yoojung the day after we hang at the bowling alley. And guess what Jeongguk said? ‘____’s probably having a bad day.’ I don’t know if you guys are just insanely supportive or blind.”

“Why didn’t you stop them? Why didn’t you swoop in and save Yoojung?” You ask but before he can answer, you hold up an index finger, asking for him to hold that thought as you down the untouched beer that’s been sitting in front of your Adidas.

“Don’t know, guess I was busy looking at a certain ice princess,” he chuckles, elbow on one thigh and cheek resting against his palm, the gentleness in his eyes painfully reminding you of that night.

And that’s when it dawns on you.

“I knew it, you’re drunk,” you announce, “I shouldn’t have bothered reasoning with someone who won’t even remember anything next thing tomorrow.”

“Why do you always think the only time I’m speaking facts is when I’m drunk? Why are you letting your guard down only when you think I’m not gonna remember it the next day?” His gaze pierces through your soul and holds you captive in a swarm of cosmos.

But you won’t allow it.

“I’m gonna look for Jeongguk,” you announce, placing the burrito back into the paper bag.

But before you can even stand up, long nimble fingers wrap around your wrist. The spot where it touches is searing hot. Your stomach squirms and your heart skips a beat.

“Wh—“

The words of demand get stuck in your throat as a pair of the gentlest lips land on yours. Unlike the last time, they’re soft and feather-light.

“Do I taste like alcohol?” Those damned cosmos-cluttered eyes are looking at you half-lidded, a faint trace of rose spreading across his cheeks.

“Not sure, I have to double check,” you murmur, cheeks warm and lips tingling where he kissed.

And amidst the cheering of ‘cannon ball!’ And the ‘chug! Chug! Chug!’ Mixed together in a blurred flurry, you hear your breaths mingled together and you feel Taehyung’s grip loosen around your wrist. His other hand slips underneath your shirt and it’s a good time for you to push him away and cry wolf but you don’t.

Maybe it’s the beer from that red cup coupled with the fact that you didn’t eat half of the burrito before downing the alcohol. But Taehyung’s lips are on your neck, tracing butterfly kisses. And his minty woody scent is filling your nose.

“The house’s probably empty,” he insinuates.

“No.” You say too quickly and his shoulder noticeably sags at your swift rejection.

“Let’s go to my place.” And just like that, his head lifts itself up and his eyes search yours.

“For real?”

They’re wide and overflowing with disbelief. And your heart is full as you giggle.

“You’re not doing this ‘cause you’re drunk, are you?” The muscles of his face pulls into a frown, “if you’re gonna wake up tomorrow and tell me you forgot—“

Your hands cup around his face and he audibly swallows. You never thought you’d live to see the day when Kim Taehyung would follow your whims without so much as a playfully annoying retort but he’s letting you pull him in for a kiss.

A soft sigh leaves his mouth when you run your tongue over his bottom lip. He welcomes you gladly, licking and suckling your tongue until you pull away. He lets out a whine.

“Do I taste drunk?” You ask, giggling at how docile he’s being.

He shakes his head, hair tickling your cheek. Judging from the way his hands are both glued to your skin underneath your shirt, you don’t think he’s going to let go anytime soon.

“Okay, let’s grab an Uber.”

At that, his eyes light up like a thousand stars. You bound past the crowd, your hand in his, before bursting out of the door and onto the sidewalk where you wait for the car to roll to a stop in front of you.

Keeping your hands off each other throughout the ride was a feat but you somehow made it with your clothes and what’s left of your sanity intact. Though as soon as you step into your dimly lit apartment, the clothes come off one by one, making a trail leading to your bedroom.

Taehyung’s touches burn. Your stomach churns with unrest as your heart thumps in your chest. You’re already in your undies by the time you’re falling backwards and bouncing off the soft mattress once.

He’s got his jeans on, the light from the moon hitting the ridges of his abs and glinting off his buckle. The same buckle that’s restricting your view of where the forming V-line ends.

His tip lightly hits your forehead when he pushes his boxers down. Maybe you were sitting too close. But just like Taehyung couldn’t stand not touching a part of you — he kept your hand in his and occasionally squeezed it throughout the ride here — you can’t stand not feeling his rich olive skin either.

“__- you don’t have to—“ he stammers and it’s the first time he appears so fallen apart.

You lick him once, savoring the sweetness that’s purely Kim Taehyung.

“So this is how you taste,” you steal a glance at his parted lips and rosy ears, giggling, “I only remember bits and pieces last time, so I’m gonna take my time right now.”

He hisses, it’s low and breathy. You swear he said ‘fuck’ but you can’t tell because you’re too focused on making sure you’re not making a fool out of yourself when and if your gag reflex kicks in. It doesn’t.

How could it? Before you can even taste his release, he’s pushing you down, your head landing on the pillow with your lingering perfume on it. Now it’ll remember the scent of his cologne too.

“I can’t cum— No— I can’t cum yet. Not till I feel you around me,” he fumbles with his words.

“Tae—!” You gasp when he buries his face in between your legs but you quiver when he licks a strip down your entrance.

“I’m trying to remember,” he says simply when your eyes meet in the briefest moment.

The sight is almost sinful. You want to shut the door and lock him up in here for the rest of your life. Have Kim Taehyung for yourself.

“Taehyung,” you mewl, arms outstretched, asking for him to fall right into them.

As if something’s possessed him, Taehyung pushes himself up and lays his head on your shoulder. His arms circle around your waist, holding you closer until your bodies meld together.

“Taehyung,” his name rolls off your tongue like honey.

“Hm?”

“Can I top?”

The question hangs in the air moment too long. His body tenses before he springs up and out of your arms.

“Heck no,” he declares but his face is beat red and you’re not sure which one to believe, “we’re following my lead this time.”

“This time?” You blink, neck craning to the side ever so slightly as you recall the many times he denies it— “so you do remember.”

“I—… it doesn’t matter. I’m topping, spread your legs,” he instructs but before you can even do that yourself, his hands already found their way on the inside of your thighs, pressing down gently so they’re spread eagle for him to take you.

Before you can even protest, he’s already positioned himself in front of you. If he’d so much as move and inch, he’d slip right in from how wet you are.

“Do you have an inferior complex in bed Kim Taehyung? Do you feel less when a woman takes the lead?” You tease, smiling coquettishly, trapping your index finger between your teeth to distract him as you lift your hips slightly to take him in deeper.

“You talk too much, princess.” He husks, eyebrows set in a hard, unappreciative frown before he slowly but surely slides into you whilst he plants both his hands on either side of you.

A pleasant sigh leaves you as your eyes instinctively shuts at the first stroke of pleasure that licks your stomach. Another mewl escapes your lips when he pulls out only to slide in excruciatingly slowly, it’s almost painful. This is probably payback from the many times you’ve been a sly, cunning fox in front of him.

But your saving grace comes in the form of Kim Taehyung’s first groan and the sudden rushed movements. Torturing you is torturous to him too.

“Look at me,” he whispers, breath hitting your face.

So you do, your force your eyes open, your sight blurry from having shut them so tightly. But when your gaze focuses, nothing could prepare you for the ungodly sight of Kim Taehyung’s tousled hair that brushes against the forming bead of sweat on his forehead. His slightly parted lips where delicious sounds are pouring out of. His hooded eyes that reflect your own pleasured expression.

The rest is a mess of moans mixed together, sheets fisted in a rush of sensation, your arms around his hard back —you think you might’ve clawed him like a feline in heat— Taehyung’s lustrous groans and the feeling of being filled to the brim, you don’t know if you’ll ever be the same again.

First light, you’re breathing in your first cigarette of the day. The window is pushed open and you have your fingers that are holding the bud, out. The lump underneath the blanket groans and turns and stretches.

He looks ethereal with the amber rays painting his skin a rich bronze tint. His tousled hair and comical way of rubbing his eye makes you wonder if anyone else has seen this side of Kim Taehyung.

“I didn’t know you smoke.” He slurs his words slightly as he pries his eyes open to look at you— particularly the fawn colored bud in between your fingers.

“‘Cause Jeongguk doesn’t know that,” you chuckle, knowing full well that more than half of the things Kim Taehyung knows about you and all the things you didn’t want to know about Kim Taehyung— is because of Jeongguk’s tendency to blabber out things about you to his ‘new’ best friend and things about his new best friend to you, his ‘old’ best friend.

“Mans can’t keep a secret for shit.” He admits and makes a guttural sound that seeps right into your bones as he props his elbow on the mattress and leans his cheek against his palm.

“Just shows how much he likes you,” you raise the ashtray that’s been resting on your lap up, tapping the lit tip twice.

“I’m liking the only-Kim-Taehyung-knows thing going on here,” he grins, stroking an invisible beard.

“You should sleep some more,” a smile graces your lips as your fingers caress his hair out of his face before turning to the window and letting the wind carry away the smoke that leaves your lips.

“Seriously, you’re so cool.” The sound is muffled.

When you turn to look at him again, he has half of his face buried in the pillow, his arms folded underneath and his eyes are piercing through your soul, “but you can be so mean sometimes.”

You’re not sure why your whole body freezes or why it feels like your heart’s about to stop beating right then and there if you don’t touch him, feel him underneath your fingertips. So you put the ashtray down next to your thigh, you trace your finger pad down on his cheek bone and down his chin. You tilt his head just the slightest bit— just enough for you to lean over and press your lips on his.

And that somehow triggers something in him.

Kim Taehyung rises from the bed, the blanket sliding off his bare skin until you catch a glimpse of his semi-hard erection as he reaches over for the cigarette, his faint cologne filling your senses. You don’t even notice him swiping the nicotine out of your hands and putting it out in the ashtray until it’s too late.

“Taehyung?” You quiz, confused.

Without a word, he pounces on you, sending you tumbling into the mattress. The sight of him looming over you with a smirk causes the memories of last night to pour into the back of your mind. It was like this last night too. Him on top of you and having that triumphant smile glued to his face.

Taehyung doesn’t say anything for the longest moment as he buries his face in your neck, breathing in your fragrance that’s wholly you.

“Can I see you again tomorrow?” His breath is warm against your collarbone.

“We are — we’re going to the waterslides,” you say in a matter of factly, “with Jeongguk and the rest.”

It’s as if as though the name triggered a switch, Taehyung shoots up. A frown tugging on the muscles of his face.

“I mean just the two of us, like…” the frown disappears and he hesitantly avoids your gaze, “like a date.”

At that, you feel your whole body turn to stone. It takes you a moment to place a hand on his chest and lightly shove him off. He seems to understand your want for space despite the war going on inside him. Despite the hurt that flashes across his eyes.

“Taehyung, I…” you take a deep breath, one hand rubbing across your face as though it’d rub off the heaviness in your chest, “I have a fiancé. My parents set it up. Said if I don’t marry him after I graduate, they’ll cut off my funds for good. I’d be as broke as Yoojung, maybe even worse.”

All of a sudden, the air becomes thick with tension. You’re already having a hard time breathing from all the guilt that’s accumulating in your chest, coupled with Taehyung’s murderous gaze, you’re surprised you haven’t fainted from the need of air.

“Tell me that bastard’s name. I’ll fucking kill him.” He demands, hands curled into fists on his knees.

Yet you don’t feel a sliver of fear as you reach over him and smoothes out his fingers, thumb grazing his white knuckles.

“Don’t know, I wasn’t really taking notes. Wasn’t too keen on hearing my dad talk about selling me off to what’s-his-face’s family.” You say casually yet your heart writhes inside your chest.

The memory of your father and stepmother telling you about the arrangement isn’t a pleasant one.

“Happened in my last year of high school— after my mom died, I packed my bags halfway through the semester and never looked back.” A smile graces your lips when you feel Taehyung’s large, warm hand on your cheek, your eyes fluttering shut because you know you won’t be able to finish telling him without crying, “my stepmom found me and threatened to make my dad disown me if her husband’s illegitimate daughter that she’s forced to take as her own, ruin their perfect family facade if people start noticing I wasn’t showing up at socials anymore. I managed to get her off my back by promising I’d befriend the sons and daughters of conglomerate families and maintain a friendly relationship with them in college.”

That’s also why you can easily promise to buy Yena an engagement present despite living in this shabby, barely-furnished flat. That woman’s going to be the one paying for it.

“We can meet your parents and tell them we’re dating.” He suggests but you shake your head at the wishful thinking.

“They won’t budge unless it’s set that we’re getting married.”

“Well…” Taehyung begins but his words fall short.

Maybe it’s the way your long lashes caress the top of your cheek and your naturally sharp gaze sweeps over his built and holds him captive.

‘Well, we can tell them we’re getting married.’

“And I don’t want my stepmom to think she won by snatching KIM Group’s only heir off the market— even if I’d get you for myself and she’d only get the ‘KIM Group’s in-law’ name.”

“Anywho, you hungry?” you smile a heartbeat later — it’s the same smile Taehyung watches Jeongguk receive and feel the little greet talons of jealousy grip around his heart. Now that he’s one of the few that’s seeing that smile, he doesn’t want anyone else to see it.

Taehyung’s hand cups your face gently, his warm brown eyes boring into your own and making your heart thump a little too fast. And here you thought you’d got used to it after a whole night of fearing it’d jump right into your throat from how fast it was palpitating.

The kiss he places on your lips is sweet.

But before you can even kiss back, he’s pulling away, on hand pressing on your thigh, the other propping his upper torso up before he lowers himself in between your legs, lips curling in a smirk

“Starving.”

When Sunday rolls around, you find yourself in the cutest strapless garnet bikini, standing in front of the swirly waterslides as adults and children alike scream and giggle — there’s no in between — before they plunge into the pool at the bottom.

Oh, and apparently printed and frilled bikinis are the ones in-trend. At least Jennie Kim is wearing a mono color, all-black bikini too.

“Ah, I’m in trouble,” Jimin sighs, staring off into the distance in his deep blue trunks, “what if my trunks slips off and everyone sees my schlo—“

“Cannonball!” Jeongguk wheezes past you lot and straight into the pool, sending splashes of water everywhere except you, but that mainly has to do with Kim Taehyung stepping in front of you a second before Jeongguk’s curled up body hits the water.

You’ve seen plenty of half-naked men in your lifetime — namely Jeon Jeongguk, you think he has abs, but you’re not sure. But Kim Taehyung? Now that’s a work of art. It’s like the gods took hundreds or even thousands of years to mold him into the fine specimen he is today and sent him down to earth at the same time your feeble human existence is meant to be alive at. And you can’t have been more grateful.

But the fact that he’s so tall makes his trunks look painstakingly short and you can visibly see the outline of his dick from where you’re standing. And did he have to be shirtless? Min Yoongi has a white (albeit it’ll be seen through when it’s submerged in water) and Hoseok has a wife beater on. Why is Kim Taehyung shirtless?

You think you saw Yoojin wipe away some drool when Taehyung came to where you were gathering after coming out of the changing room.

“Double cannonball!” Seonghwa and Mingi yell at the top of their lungs before levitating mid hair for a millisecond and plunging into the water.

Now, you’re the only one as dry as sandpaper and the others are soaking wet.

“Why did I even bother.” Min Yoongi grumbles and starts walking off to the seats where parents usually sat as they watch their kids play.

Hoseok and Jimin follow after. Though their entrance into the pool is less explosive as they lower themselves and stick to the edge.

“Yoojung, Yoojin! Get in! The water’s nice!” Seonghwa waves at the two girls, one is shaking her head in indignation from getting splashed without her consent and the other is glancing between her older cousin who’s a boy (and will definitely hang out with boys) and you and the girls.

The blush on Jeongguk’s cheeks and the way he’s unusually quiet all of a sudden— doesn’t go past you.

“Are you guys getting in?” Yoojung approaches Roseanne Park who’s standing with Kim Jisoo and Jennie Kim. They’re just a feet away from you but Yoojung’s been acting like you don’t exist.

When you bump into her in the changing room, she meekly steps aside, keeping her head low and not even greeting you. But then again, you were walking with Yoojin because you happened to meet at the door.

“Let’s go for the swirly whirly really scary slide!” Lalisa Manoban announces, hooking her arm around yours.

“W-wait,” you stammer, heart crashing against the ground at the sight of the gargantuan slide that’s possibly the largest one there, “m-maybe we can try that one!”

As if you’ve grown another head, everyone stares at you with raised, disbelief-painted eyes. Jennie even pushed down her shades to dramatically question your sanity.

“____, that’s a kids-only slide.” Lisa deadpans.

And it’s only then do you follow the direction your finger haphazardly pointed to — nothing could be worse than the swirly whirly really scary slide, or so you thought.

“Aha- ha ha, I mean that one.” You shift the direction you’re pointing at just the slightest bit but you soon learn that it’s a mistake because the one you’ve chosen is the second tallest slide there.

“Now, you’re talking.” All you remember is Lisa’s superhuman strength dragging you away and Kim Taehyung’s divided gaze on whether he should hold onto your outstretched hand — because that would be highly un-Taehyung and ____-like — but it doesn’t matter if people found out that something happened between you two to warrant you to ask for Kim Taehyung’s help and the aforementioned man actually helping you.

“Save me.” You mouth and the last thing you see is Kim Taehyung’s eyes growing round as he finally registers your discarded pride and your fear for big swirly slides.

Just before everyone fills in the swim ring, he pops up and chivalrously announces his intention to ‘accompany you mademoiselles on your ride’. With your legs shaking and threatening to turn into jelly any second, you don’t really pay attention to which order you’re going.

So you were confused why Taehyung’s nimble fingers curl around your pinky and ring fingers.

“Oh, it’s full,” Taehyung chirps, as if surprised at the five-people capacity the swimming ring can accommodate.

Jennie, Jisoo, Lisa, Rose and Yoojin look over to you, Taehyung and Yoojung.

“You can take my seat, ____, it’s better if you ride with a full swim ring so you won’t feel that scared,” Jennie attempts to get up from her spot when Taehyung wordlessly smiles and shoves the swim ring filled with the five girls down the slides.

A shrill of cries echoes into the air before they disappear into the distance.

“Ha, oops. Guess it’s just us three now.” Taehyung laughs as he looks at Yoojung, almost subtly warning her while asking with his eyes if she ‘saw’ anything.

The girl gulps and suddenly starts shaking her head no.

“Next,” the worker sighs, bagged eyes and sagged shoulders — it’s as if he didn’t see Taehyung’s whatever-the-name-of-the-crime-of-pushing-people-down-the-slide-is.

“Hey,” Taehyung murmurs softly after you’re both seated in the swim ring, “I’m right here, just focus on me.”

It’s at that moment, as the wind blows gently against his wild curly locks and the curve on his lips promising to keep you safe— that you finally think: ‘oh fuck, I’m done for.’

Because there’s no way you can un-fall in love with Kim Taehyung when he’s looking at you like that.

“Ready,” the worker’s voice gets drowned by the sound of blood rushing in your ears, “set—“

And you plunge down.

“Kim Taehyung, you ass!” Jennie’s voice distantly drums in your ears as you lie on the lounge after having your soul sucked out of your body and slam back in when you reach the bottom of the slide.

“I wasn’t ready yet!” She means that time when she’s about to push herself up but gets pushed down to watery slides of hell instead. Anyone would’ve been shocked.

“Daddy, chill.” Taehyung says and everything goes silent for five solid seconds before you hear him yelping and Jennie’s “you’re dead, Kim Taehyung!” As Lisa and Rose cheer for their friend’s vengeance.

Something cool touches your temple and you pry your eyes open to find the sight of Jeongguk holding a carton of drink to your face.

“It’s orange juice, they say it could help with nausea,” he grins, completely oblivious to shaking of your knees and the erratic thumping of your heart as the after effects of going down from one of the longest slides you’ve ever been on.

You don’t remember how you got here but you think Taehyung wrapped his arm around your waist and brought you to lie on the lounge. You have reason to believe his inhuman strength didn’t even notice that your feet were dragging off the ground whilst he carried you.

The expression you showed must be unspeakable as well. You won’t even get mad if he said he didn’t want to see you anymore after witnessing this monstrously cowardly side of you.

Jeongguk lights up like a Christmas tree, “Drink that so we can go on the swirly whirly—“

You groan unceremoniously.

“No more waterslides for me for a lifetime. Nope, thanks but no.” You declare as you screw your eyes shut again but the image of the darkened tunnel and the too-fast-you-think-your-skull-is-getting-ripped-out-of-your-skin burns brighter behind your eyelids.

The crunching sound of the plastic wrapping the straw drums in your ears. Before long, Jeongguk’s shoving the orange juice in your hand with the straw perched in and ready to be drunk from.

“Are you seeing Tae by the way?” He asks ever so casually, you almost didn’t register it.

But when you do, your body lurches forward and your chest heaves violently as you cough. If you die from choking on a drink one day, Jeon Jeongguk would be the culprit.

“Wh-why would you think that?” You would like to think that came out smooth as butter with no room to question your sincerity.

But then Jeongguk flicks your forehead and you think your brain shook a little before you shoot him an apologetic look for lying right out of your mouth.

“I saw. Last Friday. And just now— he carried you like a princess and Kim Taehyung would never be caught dead giving special treatment to a girl he has no feelings for.” Jeongguk says, a smile on his lips but you couldn’t figure out the meaning behind it.

It’s times like these that you’re painfully aware of how much you’ve both grown. Just like how Jeongguk didn’t know you smoke, you don’t know Jeongguk could make that kind of face.

You feel naked and bare but you also feel like a child who’s being asked why she did what she did instead of getting yelled at by her parents. Ironically, your mom and dad never really acted like a parent to you in your twenty-something years of living.

“I don’t know if it’s going to work out,” you confess, burning holes through the white-orange carton, “but I don’t want to be the one to push him away either.”

“Ah, seriously,” Jeongguk sighs, scratching the back of his head, “you guys are so complicated. Just date and be happy, will you?”

You know he means well. If he could, he’d march up to your dad and tell the man to leave you alone even if he doesn’t really know the full story.

That’s just how Jeongguk is.

Guess that overbearing side of him will always be there.

“You’re okay with this?” You ask, trapping the bright orange straw with your thumb and index finger. Too scared to look at Jeongguk’s face when you asked that question.

You know everyone thinks you’re not the most accepting of Kim Taehyung as Jeongguk’s ‘new’ best friend. And Jeongguk’s been trying to get you to get along by including you and Taehyung in every hang out.

So to suddenly tell him you’re dating that Kim Taehyung would be more than hypocritical of you.

“Honestly?” Jeongguk breathes out and your heart stops beating until you hear the excitement in his voice, “I’m stoked to celebrate holidays with all three of us and meet my nieces and nephews in one place rather than stopping by your place and then Taehyung’s if you guys didn’t end up together…”

You zone out the minute you hear the words ‘nieces and nephews’. A headache is already knocking on your temple as you hold up a hand.

“Who said anything about children?” You sigh, feeling your energy getting drained by the minute as Jeongguk prattles on.

“By the way, you mind if I steal Tae away tonight? Since you’re finally a thing I know the feeling of wanting to be with the person you like all the time but it’ll just take a couple hours.” He asks out of the blue.

You can see Taehyung making his way over to the lounge area — he’s been stealing glances in you and Jeongguk’s way for a good two minutes now.

“Why?” You blink, curious, but correct yourself, “I mean we’re not the cringy, can’t-get-our-hands-off-each-other type, but why?”

“Oh, you know, just gonna talk to my best friend’s new boyfriend,” Jeongguk waves a dismissive hand, “man-to-man.”

You feel a grin creep up your face, “are you sure it’s Taehyung you should be talking to? What about me, hmm? What if I’m the one who has bad intentions and dates him for his money?”

You nudge his knee with your elbow.

“After all, I’m pretty much broke,” Laughter pours out of your mouth at that. It’s the kind that makes your stomach hurt and your eyes water.

“If that’s the case… he probably did something to annoy you. ‘Sides he’s got a 3 billion dollar fund in his name, he should spend it on you for the times he was being an annoying little shit.” Jeongguk nods affirmatively.

All of a sudden, you recall Taehyung’s words echoing in your ears, “I don’t know if you guys are just insanely supportive or blind.”

You chuckle to yourself.

It’s true that you’d climb the Everest and trek through the Amazon for Jeongguk if he asked. But as you watch Jeongguk and Taehyung get on a comical, video game-like fighting pose and start punching the air while the other pretend to get hit, you’re starting to wonder if swallowing your pride and come begging at the your dad and stepmom’s feet to be recognized as Kang ____, the only heiress to K Group’s multi-billion dollar asset was that big of a deal if the end cause would mean you’d be worthy enough to date Kim Taehyung.

The fight ends with Taehyung on his knees and his hands raised in surrender as Jeongguk looms over him with a fist in the air. Jeongguk gets distracted with Hoseok’s cry for help as Seonghwa and Lisa start dragging him to the swirly whirly really scary slide. Just like a child, he goes running to join the trio and somehow ends up dragging Yoongi with him as well.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Taehyung comes to take the seat where Jeongguk previously occupied, his hand on your forehead is warm and very much welcomed.

“I don’t have a fever, my soul just got knocked out of my body for a few good seconds,” you say, sipping on the orange juice.

“What did you and Gguk talk about? He suddenly started saying he’s gonna kill me,” Taehyung cranes his neck, scratching his head in confusion despite having played along with it just five minutes ago.

“He knows about us,” is all you offer.

It takes him a moment to register and in that same moment, you’re subject to his naturally intense gaze before he speaks again, “I must be hearing things because I think you just said Gguk knows about us.” A laugh that drips with ridicule leaves his lips.

“You heard right. Says he wants to… ‘talk’ to you tonight or whatever,” one corner of your lips tug upwards, “something interesting’s about to happen.”

You giggle at the thought of Jeongguk’s doe eyes trying to form a glare and his soothing voice being forced to lower into a firm, threatening one to look older and more mature as he ‘talks’ to the god’s favorite creation.

Taehyung, on the other hand, feels like his soul just left his body at the thought of having to treat Jeongguk with courtesy even though Jeongguk’s his best friend but Jeongguk your best friend too. Sure, Jeongguk knew you since you were in diapers and he practically qualifies as your brother so this talk would probably go in the direction of Jeongguk displaying his apparent authority and privilege as your best friend to… ascertain Taehyung’s intentions towards you while Jeongguk rubs it in Taehyung’s face that he’s an outsider who until just yesterday, was known as the campus heartthrob and womanizer.

Taehyung would understand why his best friend wouldn’t trust him with his best friend.

“So I am gonna die,” he cups his face as he feels his nerves acting up.

“Aw, don’t be scared. It’s just Jeongguk,” you pat his knee, laughing like you’re watching some kind of tv series unfold.

You, Yoongi and Jennie end up sunbathing in the parents’ section while the rest go around riding every slide ever existed — rinse and repeat. By the time you got to the frathouse, Jeongguk looks like he’s about ready to pass out on his bed for the rest of the day and night so when he says, “hey, Taehyung, you got a minute?”, you freeze up in surprise.

“Yeah,” despite the quiver in his voice, Kim Taehyung manages to casually nod.

“I was thinking we could get a drink or something,” Jeongguk insinuates, head nodding in the direction of the door after they dropped their bags at the foot of the couch.

“I could use a drink,” the curly haired, chestnut boy agrees.

But despite his smooth facade, you don’t miss the way he steals a glance in your direction once Jeongguk pads towards the door. You give him a thumbs up, showing your support in the only way you can before he shoots you those puppy eyes that remind you of a pomeranian.

Then they’re gone.

Kim Taehyung finds himself at the food stall just a good fifteen minutes away from campus. It’s the same stall he came with his friends whenever they needed to drink after an exam or after finishing a project. But somehow the alcohol is taking longer to kick in than they usually would and the chicken lacks the spicy sweetness to it.

“I’m just gonna say it,” Jeongguk slams the miniature clear glass on the table, his cheeks and ears starting to look rosy, “are you for real about ____?”

“I am,” Taehyung carefully pours the drink into Jeongguk’s glass.

Jeongguk clicks his tongue, “you could at least take a second to think about it… now I have nothing to pick on…” he mumbles to himself and Taehyung hides his smile behind the glass that he brought to his lips.

“You’re my best friend so I know any girl who becomes your girlfriend would be lucky… if you’d just settle down first but even if you didn’t, I didn’t care because that’d just be another girl who got her heart broken by the infamous Kim Taehyung,” Jeongguk picks up the tinted emerald bottle and tilts the content into Taehyung’s empty cup, “we’d still be friends even if you’re an asshole man slut.”

At that, Taehyung shakes his head. He can’t deny that his past hasn’t been all that bright.

But then he met you, the girl that made Jeongguk stop in his trek and gawp at you like you’re a ghost of his past. The same girl that looks at Jeongguk, size him up with your fierce, penetrating gaze and grins the same idiotic grin that Taehyung thought was originally Jeongguk.

Second semester of second year was the first time Jeongguk and you reunited. At first, he thought you’d easily be one of his best friends since his friend’s friend is his friend — even more so, his best friend’s best friend. But as soon as Jeongguk was out of sight, the air fell silent. Taehyung thought you were just shy but he, sooner rather than later, found out that was a far cry from who he thought you to be.

Taehyung was sure you hated his guts.

No, rather, you didn’t spare him a single glance, like he was air. And your world revolves only around Jeon Jeongguk.

It’s not like Taehyung minded. In fact, he likes people who show their blatant disinterest to him rather than try to curry his favor just because he’s the heir to KIM Group.

But the more Jeongguk tried to get Taehyung and you to hang out together, the more Taehyung realized he’s the only person you pretend doesn't exist. Even those leery, fakes sticking to Jeongguk and him got closer to you in no time.

Then one day, Kim Taehyung found you drinking in the dark when he went down to grab some food from the kitchen after having partied all night. The sight of Kang ____ staying over had effortlessly became a natural sight. You didn’t bother the others. Confining yourself in Jeongguk’s room and maintaining a friendly albeit firm distance from the others if you ever hung out in the common room.

So he sat down next to you on the couch, ignoring the slumbering Park Jimin on the ground and the occasional snoring of Jung Hoseok on the kitchen counter.

“It’s because I’m Gguk’s new best friend, isn’t it?” He’d blurted out, partly because he was half asleep and the other part was because he knew those words couldn’t have made your whatever kind of relationship with him turn any more sour, “that’s why you hate me.”

Then you smiled and the sound of an angel's hymn drums in his ears as you giggle, “hate is a strong word, I have to notice you to hate you.”

Was it that moment; when he realized he’d skipped right into the rabbit hole where he wouldn’t be able to crawl out no matter how hard he tries?

The morning after that, he woke up to an empty bed even though he remembered feeling the softness of your skin underneath his fingertips and falling asleep to the steady rhythm of your breathing. The next time he saw you, it was as if nothing changed at all. You were still only looking at Jeongguk as if you’d jump in front of a moving car to save him. You barely spared Taehyung any glance.

And that drove Kim Taehyung insane.

So he started getting on your nerves, teasing you and calling you ‘princess’ because he noticed Yena calling you that for paying for dinner that time everyone went out to celebrate the New Year. Your eyebrow twitched at that word but you still kept on a perfectly practiced smile as you walked with Yena and Yoojin while Taehyung stayed three steps back as Jeongguk talked about the sweet and sour pork his mom made the day before.

Kim Taehyung didn’t just go down the never-ending rabbit hole. He went down that path that guaranteed your unyielding hostility.

Because if he can’t have your smiles, he’ll take your glares.

“That child… she has trouble letting people in,” Jeongguk’s words bring him back to the mouthwatering smell of sweet and spicy chicken and grilled beef, “her mom trapped her dad using her. Mr. Kang was already married but he and Mrs. Kang was having trouble conceiving a child and one day, ____’s mom who was pregnant with her, came demanding child support from Mr. Kang,” Jeongguk rubs his nose, Taehyung’s not sure if it’s the alcohol or friction that made it so pink, “they decided to adopt ____ into the family but Mrs. Kang wasn’t always nice— she hit her in front of me when we were playing once, there was no other adult there. You know why? Because ____ got second place in her class. We were in first grade for fuck’s sake.”

Taehyung hears the sound of his heart breaking as he downs the bitterness of the alcohol in one go. He keeps his hand curled around the cup, gripping tightly, because he knows if doesn’t have anything to hold onto, he’d go running back to the frathouse and into your arms like some clingy boyfriend.

And even then, Taehyung thinks back to the warm rays that hit your skin— even then, he knows you’ll grace him with that ethereal smile and lets him lay on your bosom as you run your fingers through his chestnut hair.

“She smiled and told me it’s her fault… because she didn’t study enough. I dumbly believed her until halfway through our last year of high school, she left. When I met her again, I almost didn’t recognize her.” Jeongguk sighs.

His eyes burn holes in the shot glass but he couldn’t bring himself to drown in the bitter sweetness of the buzz.

Taehyung’s the opposite. He relishes in the numbing sensation of the alcoholic beverage, yet curses himself for being such an immature man child. He’s been pushing your buttons — and god gave him a talent for spotting people's innermost wounds — it’s a surprise how you still let him into your home and held him like you did and told him your story like you trusted him with your life.

Come to think of it, if Jeongguk’s story stops in high school and resumes when he meets you again in your second year… that means even Jeongguk doesn’t know what happened to you in that time you and Jeongguk were apart. Taehyung just figured it was something even Jeongguk knew to keep his lips sealed about.

Taehyung feels the burning sensation in his throat but his eyes are clearer than they ever were. His heart thumps and his mind races at the recollection of your lithe fingers running through his hair and your tender kisses on his lips. You touched him like he was a delicate flower petal that could easily be crushed under the weight of your world.

Maybe that’s why you didn’t pay any mind to him and why you didn’t stop Ahn Yoojin and Choi Yena from picking on Chae Yoojung.

Kim Taehyung is the kind of man who can read the intentions of those who approach him and still lets those greed driven people in; the kind that reminds you of your father who accepted your mother’s advancements twenty-something years ago even though he knew full well the glimmer of self-indulgence in her eyes.

And Choi Yena is someone who covets a position she’s not meant to have; just like your mother.

“So if you’re gonna break her heart Kim Taehyung—“ Jeongguk meets his eyes.

“You can punch me… hit me til I’m black and blue if I ever did that.” Taehyung says, not a single quiver in his voice and manner, “‘cause the day I make Kang ____ cry is the day I won’t deserve to live.”

“Good, good,” Jeongguk repeats as he nods, pouring the last drop into Taehyung’s cup before raising it midair.

Taehyung clinks his cup with Jeongguk once before downing the drink one last time.

You’re already soundly asleep when Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jeongguk got back. Jimin and Hoseok are playing cards against humanity in Jimin’s room while Yoongi is sleeping somewhere in the shadow of the house. Sometimes he falls asleep on the massage chair, other times on the couch in the game room and if he’s nowhere to be found, then he’s probably found his way to his bed.

Taehyung chuckles to himself as he pushes your hair out of your face and you end up wrinkling your nose in your sleep.

“She’s so cute.” He murmurs but Jeongguk catches it.

“Duh, she’s my best friend.” The black haired boy thrusts his chest out, hands on his hips.

But Taehyung barely heard it. He carefully tears the quilt off your body, noticing the tank top and shorts you’re wearing and his mind instantaneously travels back to the time when he and you aren’t together.

You would walk around in these thin, skin tight tank tops and shorts that wrap around your rear deliciously. Taehyung forgot the amount of baths he had to take every time he saw you walking around in them whenever you came out for a drink or a snack.

And other times, you’d be cooped up in Jeongguk’s room.

Jeon Jeongguk gets to see you in a tank top and shorts every minute of the time you spend hanging out in his room.

Somehow, Taehyung wants to punch Jeongguk’s eyes out right now.

“Yo, what are you doing?” Jeongguk lifts a questioning brow just as Taehyung’s about to scoop you up in his arms.

“I’m taking her to my room,” he answers, a hint of defiance dripping from his voice.

“Why are you taking her to your room?” Jeongguk shoots another question Taehyung’s way.

“To let her sleep in my room.”

“That’s great, but she’s fine right here.”

“Before, yeah but now she has me now, her boyfriend.”

“Of two days! you think I’m gonna trust you with ____? You? You’re a fucking slut.” Jeongguk’s voice grows increasingly vexatious as he comes to stand between Taehyung and the bed where you’re quietly swayed in the ocean of dreams.

“You’re the bigger manwhore, I stopped fucking around six months ago,” Taehyung lowly hisses.

“W-well—“ Jeongguk chokes on thin air and Taehyung takes his stupor-stricken state to push him out of the way.

“No- no! Don’t touch my best friend with your filthy hands!” Jeongguk drags Taehyung by the neckline of his shirt.

“Quit it! You’re gonna wake ____ up!”

Taehyung shoves Jeongguk’s face away with his bare hand. Soon enough, they start having a mini wrestling session where Jeongguk’s neck is craned the furthest it can allow as Taehyung keeps shoving at it and Taehyung’s hair is at risk of being torn off his head because Jeongguk let go of his neckline for the beautiful, lucious lock on top of his head.

Amidst all that, they fail to notice the figure sitting up in the looming darkness until it’s too late.

“Both of you,” the voice sounds like you but yet unlike you, “shut the fuck up.”

Taehyung and Jeongguk don’t know how, but they find themselves in the hallway. The last thing they see is Jeongguk’s bedroom door shutting in their face.

“So, uh, can I sleep in your room?” Jeongguk asks after a whole solid minute.

Taehyung sighs, too tired to start picking another fight “I guess.”

At least, he achieved his objective of the earlier fight that awoke the beast in you: to get you not to sleep in the same bed with Jeongguk tonight.

A month passes by and Choi Yena’s engagement approaches. She sent you an invitation three weeks prior. Her intentions are clear; so the order for her gift you promised goes unhitched.

“You sure you don’t need me to come with you?” Jeongguk asks for the third time as he parks his car in the underground parking lot of Kang Group’s HQ.

“Yes, I’m sure, dad.” You scoff-laugh.

The tension in his brows doesn’t lessen one bit, if anything he forces out a smile and it makes you want to take back the joke. After finally telling him why you’ve been working part time, don’t have a car and live in a shabby apartment just an hour ago, Jeon Jeongguk seems to be more protective of you.

It’s enough that Kim Taehyung tried to talk you out of coming here but couldn’t stick through because he has to attend a business meeting as KIM Group’s representative after his morning class.

“Okay, if you need back up, hit me up. I’m one call away from hiya hiya-ing my way through Kang Group’s bodyguards.” He doesn’t look like he’s joking.

So you disguise your laugh by clearing your throat. You wave him goodbye at the lobby where he’s used to waiting for you and the receptionists know not to kick out the son of Jeonjo Corp.

You’re dressed in a tight-fitted dress that hugs your curves in all the right places with the darkest RayBans you own. Mr. Lee, your father’s secretary, greets you once you reach the 12th floor. The metal doors of the elevator open up to the familiar glass room where the general meetings are held. Your father used to bring you here to sit next to him throughout the meetings.

Something about showing you the ropes or some sort.

Now, you only come here every once in a while when forced.

“Miss, please, have some tea.” The grey-haired man says as he places the cup in front of you.

“Thank you, Mr. Lee,” you smile the eased, practiced smile, “when will mom be arriving?”

The word ‘mother’ almost slips out of your mouth. But you’ve faced one too many beatings to stop yourself from making that kind of mistake. The bile threatens to rise at the word you actually call her. That woman doesn’t deserve to be called that word. She’s less than a stranger to you and she only remembers you when you call her to get gifts sent to your friends or to go shopping so she’d send you a black card that she’d confiscate as soon as you get back to your apartment.

“The madam… she didn’t say.” He hesitates, a look of regret on his face for not being able to answer you with certainty.

“Then I’ll wait here.” You nod, the same practiced smile not once faltering.

“Chairman Kang is having brunch with the CEO at the Lotus,” He sounds like he has more to say but stops at that.

You feel your shoulder sag as you sigh softly. Mr. Lee has known you since you were a toddler. Out of everyone in this building, he’s one of the few people who knows the circumstances of the Kang family. There’s no malevolence in his speech, he only wants you to reconcile with your dad, if not with that woman.

“Mr. Lee, my business here is only with mom,”

He nods, lowering his head in a bow. “I understand. I will let you know once the madam is here.”

And with that, he leaves you in this glass walled room. It’s a door away from the meeting room that’s meant for VIPs to wait in. At the very least, they treat you like you’re one of the Kang’s even if you haven’t been living like one.

You send a text to Jeongguk, telling him you’re going to be here for a while because the woman is deliberately coming late to make you wait. Instead of taking up your suggestion to grab some food at the Ideok, a five star hotel in partnership with Kang Group, Jeongguk spams you with emojis and you assume, to curse that woman.

It’s only a good hour later that she bursts into the room with multiple paper bags bearing the logos of Chanel, Dior, Louis Vuitton and Ralph Lauren. Mr. Lee is trailing behind as if unsure what to do. You wouldn’t be surprised if she waved off poor Mr. Lee who was supposed to announce her being here to you.

“Choi Miyoung’s second daughter is engaged with Hsuen Inc’s third son.” Is the first thing she says as she plops down on the couch in front of you.

She’s talking about Choi Yena and her fiancé.

Placing the bags on the coffee table and almost topping the tea onto your lap, the woman pushes the sandy brown Louis Vuitton bag to the side. That’s the one you told her to get custom made for Yena.

“What are you even wearing? Go change into these, I can’t have Kang Group’s daughter going around looking like she’s mourning.” She scoffs.

“It’s Hyein Seo,” it’s a dress you have owned for four years now, she’s the one that got it for you so in this day and time, you guess it’s a little behind trend, “mother.” You reply simply. She only has a problem when you call her ‘mother’ in front of other people.

“Our ____ isn’t so bad either.” She smiles mockingly, overdone procedures making her smile uncannily evil, “KIM Group’s heir, huh? Guess that face is good for something— seducing men. Just like your slut of a mother. When is he going to propose?”

The edacious glint in her eyes makes your stomach churn with disgust.

“He’s not.” An arrogant smirk curls on your lips as you watch her lips tug into a conflicted frown, “I’m just fucking around before you and dad sell me off to some guy 10 years my senior. Maybe I should get knocked up before getting married, it’d get rid of the succession problem cause he’ll have to adopt my kid… in case of infertility.”

That hit a nerve.

It’s no secret that Chairman Kang and the madam tried to have a kid for years but couldn’t. Maybe that’s why she hates your mother until the latter’s dying breath.

“This bitch,” she stands up and your smirk grows.

The smacking sound rings in your ears. Your neck is craned all the way to the side, it’s a surprise your head is still intact. But even that doesn’t come close to the stinging sensation pulsating through your body.

“Huh,” you breathe out, confused at why no sense of satisfaction is filling your chest.

All you feel is hollowness.

“That didn’t hurt at all, did you lose your touch after all these years?” You turn to her, eyes round and lips curved in a manic smile.

“You insolent, little piece of—“ she raises her hand in the air and you don’t look away like you used to.

“Kang Chohee!” A raspy, masculine voice cuts through the air.

Surprise pulls your brows towards the sky as you stare at the man in his declining years standing in the doorway, banging his cane as his gaze bore into the woman. He looks older than the last time you saw him.

“Dad, I see you’ve been well,” you stand in greeting.

Almost as if on cue, he starts coughing out his lungs. Mr. Lee comes rushing to his side, a hand on his shaking shoulder, “Chairman, you should sit down.”

“I’m fine, Mr. Lee,” he hoarsely says.

“I should get going. I have an engagement party to get to, I wish you and mom well,” you announce, picking up the sandy brown paper bag that has Choi Yena’s name on the tag and bowing to the woman and then your dad before walking past him and Mr. Lee.

But before you get five steps in, your dad stops you, “it’s been a while… come home sometimes.”

In that moment, you feel your whole body freeze up as though invisible hands have taken hold of your limbs and drag you back to that palatial yet haunting mansion.

All you remember is standing in a room with its ceiling too high and the shadows loom in every corner, as though taunting you, telling you the monster’s going to come and eat you once the sun fully sets.

You soon learned that if you did everything that woman tells you to do, act like the perfect daughter you’re supposed to after she took you in as her own— the darkness felt a little bit bearable but the hollowness in your chest never left. And this man has never once tucked you in and read you bedtime stories like Jeongguk’s parents would — as he’d like to prattle on about the things he loved about his parents to you, the person he was starting to call best friend.

That’s how you know.

Home… there’s no such thing.

“I will,” you turn to give him one last parting bow, “father.”

The engagement party is splendid with pastel colors and baby’s breath being the flower of the day. Choi Yena looks stunning in a peach colored dress that matches the soft, spring look she’s going for. She and Yoojin gushed over the custom handbag your stepmother arranged to be made. You didn’t tell them that she had the most part in contacting the manager and going back and forth with the designs to have it turn out the way it did.

The woman’s got a knack for designing, you’ll give her that.

Rather than layers upon layers of makeup, you apply a thin layer of foundation; enough to tell that you did try to hide it but making sure the deep purple bruise would still be visible underneath. Jeongguk almost lost it when he saw the swelling on your cheek and the noticeable half-square bruising under your eye because the frame of the shades.

“But ____, are you… okay? Your cheek…” Yena is uncharacteristically considerate today as she gazes at you with concerned eyes.

You lightly run your fingertips over the numbing sensation, “I guess mother— I mean my mom was too stressed out… she kept telling me to visit often but I only managed to visit this morning. It’s not her fault.”

“Mrs. Kang did that?” A voice gasps — you think it was Im Chaewon, a friend of a friend.

“Again?” Jennie’s stern voice cuts through the air, “last time you said it was because a project fell through and she was stressed out. My parents would never lay a hand on me even if the world’s caving in.”

“Come to think of it, I think I saw a bruise on ____’s arm when we were kids…” Jeon Yunho recalls.

You and him used to play with the other kids from conglomerate families as kids. Call it play dates but with the wives running the domestic area of politics.

“What was Chairman Kang doing? Did he know and just stood there?” Another one asks.

“It can’t be helped, my dad is busy with the merger with Tajok and even if he knew… he couldn’t stop her…” Is the last preparation needed for you to set the stage and cut the strings of blame from your father.

He’d still have to take part of the heat that’s coming but it won’t be enough to shake the foundation of Kang Group and force him to retire early. There’s still a good few years before the board seeks you out.

“I’m sorry, I’m a bit tired today,” you say demurely.

“You should go home and rest.” Yena grasps your hands, eyes brimming with concern before she turns to Jeongguk, “take ____ my family’s hospital first. I’ll have Dr. Cho, our best doctor, to treat her.”

Jeongguk nods stiffly. Out of everyone here, he’s the one closest to marching up to your family home. Knowing Jeongguk, he wouldn’t lay a hand on that woman but he has enough power to ruin her reputation with the help of Auntie Jeon. The aforementioned elder woman is an honest, upright person who wouldn’t overlook matters like this. She reigns in the social circle and if she ever finds out what her close friend has been doing to her daughter… that woman is as good as dead.

It took you a whole car ride from the office to Yena’s engagement party to beg Jeongguk not to act rashly and he finally listened.

“I thought it stopped…” he trails off as he grips the steering tightly until his knuckles turn white.

You’re in his car after excusing yourself and apologizing for ruining the joyous occasion Yena profusely denied your apology because apparently it’s not something you should be apologizing for.

“It did. This time, I was actually the one who pushed her buttons.” You reply to Jeongguk.

“Don’t do that.” The stiffness in Jeongguk’s voice takes you by surprise. His glare burns a hole in your forehead before he turns his gaze to the road, “don’t make excuses for that bitch.”

You chuckle to yourself, heart warmed by his exploding anger. What a weird way to realize you’re loved.

“Do you hate me? Twisting public opinion to suit me and make someone the villain, that’s the kind of person I became after I left.” The confession comes easily to you.

Maybe because this is the last, most vicious mask you’ve put on and Jeongguk’s officially seen all of them.

“Hate you? If I’m not seething, I would’ve pat you on the back for a great soap opera performance. Right now...” He trails off, voice unusually low.

“People will start talking and when they do, she’s gonna realize there’s no coming back from that.” You watch as Jeongguk bites his bottom lip in contemplation.

“That’s too slow.” He finally confesses.

You shrug, heart thumping with sweeping excitement at the thought of Kang Chohee losing her trophy wife smile once the news gets out that she’s been abusing her stepdaughter. “Rome wasn’t built in a day. I’ll make sure to tear out her arms and legs so she won’t even be able to crawl back into the social world.”

That seems to be a good enough promise for Jeongguk. Though you doubt if he finds you with a swollen cheek the next time, you’d be able to hold him back.

“Don’t tell Taehyung,” your voice is like a wind in the tranquil meadow, barely noticeable.

But Jeongguk heard it loud and clear, “what?” He spits out, ridiculing dripping off his tongue.

“I want to be the one to tell him— and he’d probably won’t know until the day after tomorrow. I’ll tell him once he gets back from Tokyo.” You bargain, shooting him with the best puppy eyes you can muster.

When a sigh leaves his lips, you do a mini victory dance in your head.

“Fine. It’s better if he finds out from you first anyway.”

When the next day rolls around, you find yourself staring at the reflection of you on your phone screen. Not a single bruise is seen to mar your perfectly caked up face.

So you’re not sure why you tried to cover it with makeup and put on a lighter tinted pair of shades — because the last one broke — before you head to the airport to welcome Kim Taehyung at the arrival hall.

He’s already spamming you with kissy emojis and promises to hug you to death when he finally gets off the plane. He’s already touched down but the plane is doing that thing where they make a lap around the airport before finally stopping.

It doesn’t feel like you waited long when you’re laughing and replying to Taehyung’s incessant spamming. Before you know it, a familiar chestnut hair is strutting out of the VIP gate, black shades on as he looks around for something. Or someone.

When his gaze finally does fall on you, a grin spreads across his face and his hand leaves the handle of his luggage that he’s been holding. There’s a skip in your step as you watch the Kim Taehyung mini jogs to meet you halfway as if the two days you spent apart didn’t feel like twenty years for just you— it was the same for him too, it seems.

His arms band around your waist and yours curl around his shoulders, standing on the tip of your toe to reach them. For the longest moment, you stay like that, in each other’s arms as time ceases and the world stops spinning. It’s just you and him.

“Take these off, I want to have a good look at your pretty face,” before you can say anything, Taehyung is removing the shades perched on your nose bridge.

Half of you urges you to look away in fear he’d see past the foundation and makeup, the other half is just glad you’re finally able to see Kim Taehyung again in real life than on a square screen.

His eyes glimmer like the starry night as he frames your face with his palms, “you’re so pretty. Whose pretty girlfriend is this, hmm?”

You laugh, smacking his chest at the cliche line.

Yet you shyly look away, “yours…”

“Hmm, I think the one hour flight made me deaf, can you repeat that?” He cheekily requests.

“Yours. Your girlfriend. Kim Taehyung’s girlfriend.” You say embellishing each word.

His arms wind around you again, bringing you into a big bear hug as he sways your body and his side to side.

“It feels good to be back.” He breathes out a gentle sigh.

Taehyung keeps your fingers intertwined as you walk to the parking area before he lets it go to open the door of the passenger seat for you and place his luggage in the trunk. He reaches for your hand that’s on your lap again as soon as he’s done reversing the car and enters the main road.

“Um, Taehyung? Shouldn’t you be keeping both hands on the wheel?” You ask not because you don’t like the way his long, nimble fingers seem to engulf your shorter ones but because you’re genuinely concerned.

“Don’t you miss me?” He shoots you a droopy gaze, the faintest hint of pout on his lips, “So I’m the only one going insane these two days because I can’t touch or hug you?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” a bad feeling looms over you. It feels like you just walked into a trap.

“Then,” he brings the back of your hand to his lips and places a peck on it, “we can keep holding hands while I drive right? Don’t worry, I’m a pro driver, this much is nothing.”

His grin engraves itself into your brain. The stars in his eyes appear to be exceptionally bright as he hums an unfamiliar tune. You smile to yourself, cheeks warm as you bring your twined hands on your lap, your free hand caressing his knuckles.

“What’s with the thick make up by the way? Not that you look bad… you look gorgeous, actually.” He quickly adds: “And you look great without it too. But was there a social you went to before this that I didn’t know?”

“Oh, I see how it is. You’re keeping tabs on me. Why? Why do you feel the need to know where and what I do all the time?” Despite the coquettish smile on your lips, your heart skips a beat at the possibility of Taehyung seeing through the layers of makeup and notices the discoloration on your face.

Taehyung’s jaw drops to the ground. For the longest moment, he’s opening and closing his mouth like fish on land as he fumbles with his words before he finally shoots you that look that tells you he knows you’re messing with him.

Still, he raises a defense, “you’re making it sound like I’m some possessive boyfriend.”

“You’re not?” You push on, barely able to hold in your laughter.

Taehyung opens his mouth to protest but something flashes across his eyes. Something like self-doubt and hesitance.

“I mean… you like it.” He smirks.

That’s when the laughter finally spills out of your mouth. You’re not sure why it’s funny. Maybe because you didn’t try to hide how you were enjoying Kim Taehyung being all over you when you went to the party last week where you both ran into your-almost boyfriend, Kim Namjoon. You had a good flirtatious relationship with the man on and off before you got with Taehyung. And the fact that they shared the same surnames probably irked Taehyung more than he cared to admit.

When Taehyung’s Ferrari rolls to a stop in front of your apartment building, the silence lingers in the air as you feel the heat of his gaze on your hand that’s undoing the buckle of the safety belt.

Then, he finally asks, “can I come in too?”

You think you heard your heart drop to your stomach.

If you stay with Taehyung longer than this, especially when you’re at home, he’ll find it suspicious why you keep the makeup on. There are several occasions where he would drive you back from a function that has you wearing this much makeup. He knows that usually, you’d wipe it off first thing you got home. And you sure as hell can’t do that when there’s a big bruise on your cheek.

So you force a smile, hand going up to run your fingers through his soft locks.

“How about I come over to the house tomorrow?” You grasp his hand and give it a reassuring squeeze, “In the meantime, you need to sleep off the jet lag and my bed’s too hard for you 3 billion dollar back.”

“I don’t mind… I like your bed more. It smells like you.” Taehyung murmurs, gaze casted downwards as though he’s shy all of a sudden.

Your heart clenches at the idea of lying to him. He wholeheartedly believes that you’re telling him to go back for his own comfort.

“I miss you too and that’s why you need to sleep on a comfier bed so you’ll wake up ready to get nailed tomorrow.” You smile suggestively, fluttering your eyelashes innocently. “Sides,” you lean over, whispering against his lips, “didn’t they say distance makes the heart grow fonder? You can wait one more day, right?”

At that, Taehyung’s face lights up like a Christmas tree, “can I at least get a goodnight kiss?”

It’s only half past seven but you don’t have any qualms with that. The two days felt like two decades without a drop of water. So you kiss him once on the lips and he kisses you deeper the second time. Your tongue grazes Taehyung’s bottom lip before your teeth gently bite down on it.

Taehyung lets out a breathy sigh before his hands cup your cheeks and pulls you closer than you thought possible in this cramped up space with the gear handle in between the seats.

You’re not sure how much time passed once you place your hand on his chest; it’s heaving up and down for air. Your cheeks are warm and your heart is a palpitating mess— you’re sure your hair is as well but so is Taehyung’s. His gaze is hooded, those star trapped eyes looking at you like you’re his moon and his sun combined.

You don’t think you can ever get used to his gaze.

“Bye,” you whisper, a small, giddy smile playing on your lips.

Taehyung brings your knuckles to his lips, echoing your words in a hushed tone, as if he doesn’t want to say goodbye.

Your heart writhes inside your chest. There’s this sudden urge to throw your arms around him and tell him to stay the night — stay with you. But before that can happen, you push the door on your side open and slip out of the door, standing a good five feet away and waving at him from outside.

He waves back reluctantly but still manages to shoot you a dazzling smile.

It’s about 8 something that your stomach starts rumbling, almost as though chiding you for neglecting taking your meals. To be fair, you were too busy thinking about Taehyung and preparing yourself to tell him which you ended up not doing in the end and even pushed him away when he said he wanted to stay over.

It’s been a month but it feels like you've known each other for years. Taehyung has an old soul when it comes to music and literature. He likes jazz and Chopin and has them played whenever he’s working on his thesis.

You like pop songs because they’re catchy but somehow you make it work by trying to listen to each other’s preference. Eventually, you find yourself not able to concentrate unless you’re listening to Mozart (you’ve developed your own preference) and Taehyung sometimes puts on pop songs when he drives.

The image of Kim Taehyung being the sweet, heartbreaker of his campus eventually fades away and in its place, is Kim Taehyung, the man you’re falling in love with more and more every day.

Yet you can’t tell that man something as simple as a confrontation with your stepmom and you riling her up to get her to hit you so you could moan about it to the friends she put you up to maintain a good, amicable relationship with. Those are the same friends that’ll go and tell their parents about her wickedness to her only stepdaughter.

Guess it’s the way of the world.

It comes back around.

The doorbell echoes off the walls just as you’re about to blow dry your hair. Thinking it’s the delivery man with your dinner, you didn’t bother checking the front door camera.

So to say you were surprised when you find yourself fresh faced-to-face with Kim Taehyung whose grin gradually turns into a frown — would be an understatement.

“What… your face…” his fingers feel feather-light on your cheek where the swelling still feels tender.

When the shock passes, rage makes it way to his rich honey brown eyes, “which motherfucker dared—“

You quickly encircle your hands around his, shaking your head. “You should come inside first.”

The boxes of chicken he brought over and the noodles you ordered lie untouched on the foldable table you brought out and set on the floor. You sit across each other, the towelette still on your head while water droplets from your hair damp ends the spot just below your shoulders.

“Let me dry your hair,” Taehyung breaks the silence, scooting over to you while you turn your back to him.

You’ve already told him the whole portion of the story that happened yesterday. And you told him about the reporter you hired to follow you around and take pictures of you in Jeongguk’s car with your side of the window rolled down as well as pictures when you’re at Yena’s engagement.

This is the part where you can’t ever bear to tell anyone— not even Jeongguk. To use your bad fortune and embellish it for the whole world to find out.

Taehyung’s nimble fingers begin to massage your head through the towelette. The silence hangs stale for the longest moment before he asks, his voice a low murmur, “why didn’t you tell me earlier— no, before this, when we were on a call?”

“I thought about that— I wanted to but I couldn’t.” You don’t know where this courage is coming from either. But then you realize, this isn’t courage. This is you doing the one thing you set out to do the moment you proposed the arrangement of coddling up to the sons and daughters of the conglomerate families to that woman.

“You said I’m cool but this isn’t cool.” You chuckle softly, relishing in the relaxing sensation of Taehyung’s fingers in your hair and the minty, woody scent that’s wholly Kim Taehyung, “I get hurt and I bruise and I get mad — I’ve always been mad, I want that woman to suffer; to lose everything she cared about and to know how it feels like to have nothing.”

His hands fall away. For an excruciating moment, you’re not sure if he’s still there or if your body has blocked all forms of sound until you didn’t even hear him leave.

But then a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. A forehead lays itself at the back of your head, against your damp hair.

“I can’t help you through everything, but I’ll love you through everything.” Taehyung’s voice cracks at the end. You have this sudden urge to turn around and face him but you have a feeling that just as you didn’t want to show your messed up face, Taehyung wouldn’t want to show you the face he’s making now.

Still, the four letter word he uses doesn’t go past you. If anything, you’re mentally panicking on how you should respond.

Kim Taehyung said he loves you.

You clench your fists — it takes a moment for you to notice that they’re shaking and that your vision is blurry. Another moment for you to realize that the snivel isn’t Taehyung’s but your own. You don’t know how or when but you find yourself crying into a hard stone chest, wetting the soft grey material of his shirt. The more you cry the harder it is to breathe but the freer you feel. Like a bird that’s finally soaring in the star studded night sky.

The word doesn’t stop moving but you find peace in the silence of the passage of time.

“Taehyung…” you finally say, pushing yourself off him and looking at the handsome man with a somber smile on his face. Or at least you think it’s a smile. “I can’t see…”

The man chuckles, “well duh, look at how swollen your eyes are after crying like a baby.”

“Since I’m half blind,” you mumble, curling into him again and smiling at the warmth that seeps through your pores, “can you stay over? What if I try to walk and run into the wall?”

“We can’t have that.” Taehyung jests.

“Taehyung?”

“Hmm?”

“Did Jeongguk not say anything?” You ask, since it’s impossible for the two to not meet when they’re living in the same house. After all, they’re best friends.

“Only that I should go to see you if I miss you that bad.” He kisses the top of your head.

“I begged him not to tell you… and not to kill my stepmother.” You confess.

“No wonder he looked like a horny joke away from snapping at Jimin.”

Since lulls in and you find yourself trying to pry your — as Taehyung says — swollen eyes open but to no avail.

“I still think you’re cool.” Taehyung pushes the tear stained hair out of your face, “and cool doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get hurt or be indifferent to everything. It’s because you’re honest with yourself — my girlfriend is the coolest.”

The seasons change and you find yourself in a royal blue robe, throwing your hat into the air as you pose for a class picture. Taehyung stands in front of the graduation hall with a bouquet of light pink roses. You leap right into his arms and place a kiss on his lips as he twirls you around midair.

“Oh hey, Jeongguk, my best friend, thanks for coming— oh, no, problem bestie, what kind of friend would I be if I forgot my own best friend’s graduation?” The coffee colored teddy bear next to Taehyung narrates.

It’s only after Taehyung sets you down on your heels do you notice the black leather sleeves around the bear’s neck and a whole person in black leather jacket and matching jeans behind it.

“Gguk! Aw, is this for me?” You coo, shaking the bear’s hand, “Hi, my name’s ____, what’s yours?”

Unbeknownst to you, Jeon Jeongguk is shooting Kim Taehyung a triumphant smile and the latter mustering the most contorted look on his face.

“How ‘bout Ggukkie?” Jeongguk suggests as he slips a hand under the bear’s arm and makes it look like the bear is cheering in joy for its new name.

Kang Group is still in shambles after one news website reported about Kang Chohee’s vicious deeds. People — employees and forgotten friends — start showing up relaying the moments when she had been an absolute witch to them. The board of Kang Group voted that you were unfit to inherit Kang Group because you couldn’t even keep private family matters within the family. As a result, the board of directors are under fire for being ‘under Kang Chohee’s influence. Everyone’s hope rides on Chairman Kang to keep Kang Group alive. The fact that there is talk about him divorcing Kang Chohee gives hope that Kang Group isn’t a lost cause yet.

Taehyung graduates one month later. His robe is the color of deep emerald that brings out the color of his rich olive skin. The group picture ends up with your round eyes and ‘o’ shaped mouth as Taehyung holds you to his chest and his free hand shoves Jeongguk’s face away.

Taehyung got a good scolding after that and Jeongguk ends up with a picture exclusively of you and him while Taehyung stands out of the frame with an unfazed expression.

As soon as you’re done, he swoops you up in his arm and starts sprinting away before anyone could say ‘cheese!’

“Taehyung, there’s people around!” You gasp, hands covering your face as you feel the wind caress your hair.

“So? We’re two people who are dating and love each other!” He laughs.

It turns out, he was headed to his Ferrari, placed you down in the passenger seat before he slipped into the driver’s seat and drove away, bidding a fuming Jeongguk and the rest of his laughing frat brothers adieu.

When New Year rolls around, you find yourself dressed in a creamy A-line dress with a baby blue ribbon wrapped around your torso to give a hint of youth and innocence and masquerade your fierce, penetrative gaze usually heard about.

The moment Kim Taehyung sees you as you slip into his Ferrari, he breathes in sharply as if the air got sucked out of him. He imagines you in a pure white wedding dress walking down the aisle towards him. If you already look stunning in a simple dress, you would look drop dead gorgeous on his and your wedding day.

“I look weird, don’t I?” You ask, a hesitant smile on your lips.

“If that’s what you mean by absolutely breathtaking,” Taehyung slips his hand underneath yours that’s resting in your lap, his thumb grazing over your knuckles before he brings it to his lips.

“You’re just saying that,” you huff, eyebrows pulling together and nude lips puckered in frustration.

It takes Taehyung off guard that you’re rebuking his words. You never do that. Usually, you would throw your head back and laugh at his generous compliments. He’s always known you’d half-believe it and half-brush it off. He knows how overbearing he can be with his words of affection. But he can’t help himself when you’re sitting there, looking like a marionette. Sometimes he wants to lock you up in a glass house and never let you out.

“Don’t be nervous,” he leans in to peck your lips.

The first time, you’re distracted by the way you’re fiddling your thumbs. The second time, Taehyung hooks his index finger underneath your chin and makes you turn to him as he presses his lips on yours.

“What if your mom doesn’t like me?” You wonder out loud, eyebrows knitting together again after Taehyung tried so hard to calm you down with the kiss.

“She’ll love you.” He rasps, head tilted ever slightly but before he can feel your lips on his again — Taehyung’s never one to give in to temptations, but he thinks he’s addicted to you — a slim, perfectly manicured index finger lands on his mouth.

“You’ll mess up my lipstick— we should get going.” You say firmly.

Taehyung’s eyes sweep down to your lush lips one last time, debating whether he should call his mom and tell her you’ll be late but he decides against it. The last time he made you late to an appointment with a client, he ended up losing the privilege of knowing your apartment’s passcode for a whole week. Only after swearing an oath of abstinence did you tell him the new passcode.

He settles with interlocking your fingers together as he drives. The smooth jazz music fills the air. He notices your occasional bottom lip-biting as you stare out the night street. Lampposts light the way to the hotel you’re meeting Mrs. Kim at. It’s a little cold outside but Taehyung’s heart is warmed as he pictures the moment of his mother and his girlfriend laughing at his mother’s story-telling of his embarrassing younger days. He’ll be begging the older woman to stop but he secretly won’t mind it, as long as he can see your smile.

“I heard you’re engaged to someone who’s not my Taehyung,” Mrs. Kim’s crisp voice cuts through the air.

You thought time froze but the waiter’s languidly pouring the wine into each of your glasses. How nice it would be, to think of oneself as a nonentity and detach from reality.

“Yes, mother, it’s an arrangement set up by my family, I’m still in the middle of negotiating with my parents to have it annulled,” you answer smoothly, a practiced smile on your lips.

“He’s the son of Gyeona Corp, Park Seojoon.” She says without any explanation.

“I wasn’t aware of my fiancé’s identity,” you reply demurely. You’ve had plenty of practice with your stepmom to handle at least this level of spite.

“Of course, not. You ran away from home five years ago after hearing about the engagement— how would someone who easily abandons her duties be able to handle the responsibilities that come with becoming KIM Group’s heir’s wife?” She doesn’t mention the media coverage about Kang Chohee and you feel assured that at least, Mrs. Kim isn’t someone who would blame you for not hiding the years of abuse you went through.

“Mom, it was a tough time for ____, her mother just died then—“ Taehyung interjects but the elder woman effortlessly retorts.

“Everyone dies someday. My own mother died when I was struggling to keep KIM Group together, I couldn’t even attend her funeral. But I didn’t pack and leave when the going gets tough.” Her gaze burns through you like a smolder eating away at a worn out page of a book.

“Mom! That’s enough, we’re leaving,” Taehyung’s voice rises as his gaze bores into the ever so elegant woman’s.

He tosses the napkin next to the plate and looks over to you quizzically, wondering why you’re still seated.

You sigh softly, placing a hand on Taehyung’s stiffened one, “Taehyung, do you mind giving me and mother a moment?”

It doesn’t take a genius to know what he’s thinking. His expression is conflicted and the humongous ‘why would you stand through this any longer than you have to?’ Hovering over his head.

But you simply smile— a genuine one this time. Taehyung understands that smile very well.

‘Trust me,’ is what you’re saying.

Silence hangs in the air. It’s tangible and crushes your windpipe with every breath you take. Yet the waiters serving your meals don’t look the slightest bit affected by it. Before long, they bow and disappear past the door you and Taehyung walked through five minutes ago.

“Mother,” you look at the elder woman in the eye, “I don’t plan on breaking up with Taehyung unless he decides to leave me first. Taehyung is the same as well. We’re not going to break up over this even if you oppose our relationship. If it’s the engagement that’s bothering you, I can have it annulled— even if my parents are against it, I have other ways. If it’s my lack of legitimacy to inherit Kang Group, I’m already drafting a business plan and looking for investors— I have faith that I can build my own legacy from scratch.” You say firmly.

“I understand the chairman of Fleung Inc. regards you highly for someone who joined the company less than 3 months but for now, all you have is your name and goodwill. I know how long startups take to become stable. Maybe it’ll take less than usual with you. But right now, do you think that will stand in the face of Gyeona? A company that has over thirty branches worldwide and a hundred year old legacy standing behind it?” This time, her voice comes out softer— you dare say sympathetic, “KIM Group is in a good commercial relationship with Gyeona too. If we’re going to steal away Gyeona Corp’s fiancée, at least give us an indisputable reason for it besides something like ‘love’. You understand what I’m saying, don’t you?”

“Yes, mother.” Is all you say.

By the time your heels click against the cement of the parking area, Kim Taehyung has his head leaned on the headrest, his hand pressed almost painfully against his eyes as the Rolex on his wrist twinkles in the dim light. He flinches at the light rap on the window you give it.

He blinks once in disbelief at the sight of your smiling face. The door swings open, the man tumbling out of the car. Before you even get to say anything, a pair of familiar arms and the scent of minty forest engulfs you.

You wrap your own arms around him, one hand combing through the hair on the back of his head, “were you worried? Sorry, I made you worried.”

Almost as though your complacent tone set off something in him, Kim Taehyung pulls away from you, hands holding you at an arm’s length— a good distance for him to see all of your expressions and little habits. But none of your thumb-fiddling is there and you’re not biting your lip.

Still, he wears the face of a forlorn lover, “why are you apologizing? You shouldn’t be the one apologizing. I should. I made you come even though you weren’t sure.”

You shake your head, rejecting his apology. “I wasn’t sure if mother’s going to like me, but I’m sure that she doesn’t hate me. That’s good enough… for now.”

Taehyung doesn’t seem convinced. If anything, his shoulderline sags and his lips are stuck in a downturn. Ever the Pomeranian, he is.

“What did mom tell you exactly? Whatever it is, you don’t have to take it too seriously. You don’t have to meet her if you don’t want to anymore.” Every syllable that falls out of his lips spells out clarity despite the deeply engraved hurt in his eyes from his own mother’s behavior.

You shake your head.

“Mother just told me the person I am right now can’t go against Kang Group nor Gyeona Corp. Taehyung, I’m going to do something that’s going to hurt you.” You say vaguely, not quite ready to pour everything out of your chest, “will you forgive me?”

“Whatever it is— I know it’s for us, so I’ll take it. No matter how painful it’ll be. I’ll bear it.” He murmurs, eyes a liquid gold with a universe of tenderness trapped in them.

“Are you sure you don’t want to ponder on that? What if I left you for some Hollywood hotshot?” You jest, laughing at his unyielding trust. He doesn’t even blink.

“You won’t,” he whispers lowly against your ear. The surety in his voice is almost alarming.

Your pinky finger that he’s solely holding sends tingles all over your body. Taehyung takes one step back and gets on his knee, overgrown wavy locks almost hiding his eyes from your view.

“Not if I trap you in a marriage, right?” He pulls out a deep royal blue suede box, revealing a simplistic diamond ring that glimmers like his own star-encased eyes.

You breathe out softly, heart racing. There’s an urge to ask Taehyung to pinch your thigh but no words come out. All you know is, you’re cupping your hands to your gawking mouth so the butterflies won’t be able to escape from your stomach.

So you’ll keep these little buttercups fluttering around in the garden where your chest lies, blooming and full.

“I was going to do it after we had our meal… had the building directly in front of the hotel to spell out ‘will you marry me?’” He laughs sheepishly, “so you get a parking lot proposal— I may or may not be desperate to tie you to me— oof!”

He breathes out sharply when you throw yourself into his muscular stature. Your arms circle around his shoulders. The first sob leaves your lips unceremoniously.

“It’s perfect, Taehyung. This moment is perfect.” You sob louder. From the many movie nights he’s spent with you, Kim Taehyung is no stranger to your siren’s wails.

“Is that a yes?” He chuckles despite knowing your answer.

“Yes, yes, yes! I’ll marry you, Kim Taehyung!” You declare your undying devotion in a void parking lot.

Taehyung pushes the lid of the box close. One hand hugging your waist.

Oh well, he’ll have plenty of chances to put it on.

The beep of the passcode echoes against the walls of Taehyung’s lifeless apartment. The light switches itself on as you and Taehyung’s tumble in, hands haphazardly pushing off his blazer and him searching for the zipper on your back.

You’re not sure why but something feels different. Taehyung’s touch feels different tonight.

There’s a hint of urgency in his kisses. A tinge of desperation in the way he pushes down your dress— it barely made it past your knee before he starts burying his face in between your thighs.

“Taehyung-ah!” You whimper, back arching as Taehyung’s tongue slips past your entrance.

You have to beg him to stop so you wouldn’t come too early.

“Taehyung, stop— stop. I want you inside me.”

He hesitates for the briefest moment, contemplating whether he should come at all tonight. Whether he even deserved to feel you around him after that disaster of a dinner he insisted you attend.

But before he can come up with an answer to that, you’re gesturing him over, arms open, asking for a hug. And Kim Taehyung never turns down hugs from you.

He scoops you up into his arm, holding you against his bare, naked chest. For him, it must have been an innocent embrace. But for you— you can feel each pride of his abdominal muscle brushing against your torso, his hard pulsating arousal against your stomach.

“Taehyung,” you murmur against his ear, noticing the little shivers that wreck his body.

He hums softly, indicating that he’s listening.

“Allow me,” you peck his cheek and wrap your hand around him, stroking him the way you know he’ll like it.

At times like this, Kim Taehyung would be protesting against your brazen moves, saying something about how you’ve always been calm and collected— that the bedroom is the only place he could win against you. But words seem to fail him as he throws his head back, a low groan rising from his throat.

You take his moment of distraction to stand on your knees and take him. There’s something erotic with the way he heaves out and appreciative sigh as you lower yourself until you’re perched on his lap. His eyes are hooded and glazed, lips parted ever so slightly as beautiful sounds fall out of them.

You begin to move your hips, your own moans slipping out of your mouth unrestrained. Taehyung’s hands are on your waist, as though he can’t bear not touching you even though he’s all the way inside you. If your moans and his groans are made of lust, his palm against your skin is the byproduct of his emotional desires to cherish you.

It takes both of you a shorter time to reach your highs compared to usual. Maybe it’s because of how desperate you are for each other tonight. Maybe it’s because Taehyung slipped on the diamond encrusted ring on your fourth finger while you’re bouncing on his lap like a depraved woman and that ring just made you whole.

Either way, you find yourself staring at the perfection of the gods’ will. You count each invidious lash that brushes the top of his cheek as he sleeps soundly next to you.

Gods, you can’t believe this man is yours.

And because it feels surreal, you slip out of bed and tread into Taehyung’s walk-in closet to pick out the first thing you see which is a white shirt that goes past your rear. You put on your panties that you found lying on the floor with Taehyung’s belt.

You find the packet of cigarettes you left on Taehyung’s nightstand. The clinking sound of the lighter reverberates against the walls and fills the morning air. But just before the fire manages to touch the tip of the unlit cigarette, you pause.

Mrs. Kim’s voice rings in your ears— she stopped you before you were about to leave the specially reserved private dining room, “child, ditch the cigarettes. You reek of them.”

For some reason, those words didn’t sound as malicious as they should. Judging from Mrs. Kim’s personality, she may have really said that for your own sake. Although a little harsher than Taehyung’s “I want you to choose you but this,” he would swipe the cigarette out of your fingertips and put it out in the ashtray, “is not you choosing you.”

The glint of the rock on your fourth finger catches your eyes. It feels like even your engagement ring is judging your choices right now, asking ‘you’ve already got the man of your dreams and you’re about to commit the greatest sin against your parents, what more could you ask for?’

You chuckle to yourself.

The world has a funny way for telling you to ‘fucking stop already.’

The sound of plastic rustling echoes against the walls as you toss the pack of cigarettes and lighter into the bin as you pass it to get to Taehyung’s personal study. Herman Hesse, Osamu Dazai, Alexandra Christo, Haruki Murakami fill up the shelves behind his desk. You often find yourself drawn to the story of each rumple in the page and each fold in the corner of the cover.

Though today, you can’t afford to get lost in the pages of one of the books which cover catches your eyes. Contrary to the famous saying, you do judge books by their covers. Oftentimes, you don’t get disappointed. But maybe that has something to do with the fact that each individual book is handpicked from Taehyung’s preference. And anything Taehyung recommends, you would adore.

The recliner makes a grazing sound against the floor as you pull it out from underneath the desk and take a seat. Taehyung’s Mac comes to life with a push of a button and the familiar picture of the clear blue landscape of Lake Tekapo and the snow-covered mountains behind you and Taehyung. You type in the passcode, the date of you and Taehyung’s anniversary — that Friday night, before the computer welcomes you to the desktop.

One extensive Google search later, you’re leaning back on the recliner as you sigh.

You know it’s not going to be easy but you didn’t think it would be this hard to get someone’s phone number. Granted, why would anyone have their phone number floating around on the interweb? Especially when you’re the CEO of one of the largest companies in Seoul.

You pick up your phone off the smooth surface of the glass desk, dialing the only person you’ll know that can help you.

Park Jimin grumbles in at the clamor coming from his left. It feels like someone’s knocking on his brain but the curses teetering on his lips dies when he sees ‘Kang ____’ flash across his screen.

You’ve always been the reserved, keep-to-oneself type even during the few occasions Jimin hung out with you. The only time he ever sees you be somewhat normal is when you’re around Jeongguk and later, with Taehyung after you start dating the latter.

He didn’t know how Kim Taehyung managed to thwart the ice fortress around you and how you managed to tame the aforementioned college heartthrob slash womanizer. But Jimin guesses it’s not all that surprising after all, given your and Taehyung’s temperaments.

He admits, he’s pretty jealous when he first heard about the two of you dating. But it was only to the extent where he wondered if Taehyung’s dick is bigger than his and if that was why you went for his same-aged friend.

“Has Kim Taehyung finally broken your heart and made you see that we were meant to be?” He greets, slipping out of the bed where two other cuddling figures are fast asleep.

“Au contraire,” you chuckle, Park Jimin’s always been one of the people you can see yourself forming business relations with after you all graduate and walk the path you’re destined for as the heiresses and heirs of your parents’ legacies, “he proposed just last night.”

A low whistle rings at the end of the line.

“He finally grew some balls. Feels like just yesterday he was shaking in his boots, trying to come up with your first date itinerary.” Jimin chortles, the sound of whirring in the background — it’s probably the coffee grinder since it’s not even 8 yet.

You take it, Park Jimin is a fellow coffee-dependent.

“Say, you don’t happen to have Park Seojoon’s number, do you?” The question finally leaves your lips.

Jimin coughs from the other end. It takes him a while to stop before he throws you a ludicrous question, “Park Seojoon? The CEO of Gyeona? That Park Seojoon?”

“Unless there’s another prominent figure with the same name...” you shrug even if he can’t see it.

“Did you just call me to ask that because we have the same surnames?” Jimin sounds half-irritated and half-amused.

He probably gets a lot of calls like these since they do share the same surnames.

“Yeah okay, I do, we’re third cousins.” He confesses a moment later.

“Great, can you send it to me?” You feel a grin creep up your face.

“Sure but what business do you have with Seojoon-hyung? No— actually, are you even on speaking terms with him? Does he even know you exist?” Jimin shoots you an array of questions.

You should be offended by the last one.

“Just tying up loose ends,” is all you offer, “oh, and be pretty weird if you had to call me noona, huh?”

“What—“ Before he can even force the answer out of you, the line goes dead.

You place your phone back on the glass plane of the desk, not noticing the figure leaning against the doorframe until ambles over to lean against the edge of the desk, facing you.

“You’re really going to meet him.” It’s a statement, not a question.

Guess Taehyung heard your conversation with Jimin. His cheeks are a little puffed up and his eyes are barely awake but it doesn’t look like he’ll listen if you tell him not to worry and to go back to sleep.

“I have to.” You say, reaching over to hook your index finger around his pinky, “I’m not going to let that woman think she won by going over and begging her and my dad to cancel the engagement. I’m going to do everything on my own— so one day I’ll be able to look back and think: I deserve this spot… right here, next to you.”

Taehyung looks at you like he’s seeing you for the first time. Star-trapped eyes wide open, lips parted slightly as a barely noticeable gasp escapes his mouth. Then, he snaps out of his trance and chuckles to himself while you stare at him in confusion, head tilted slightly to the side.

“I think I just fell in love with you all over again,” he grasps your hand that’s holding his pinky finger and brings your knuckles to his lips, “sometimes I worry if you love me as much as I love you, but I realize there’s no point in worrying. ’Cause we’re fighting for each other in our own way.”

All of a sudden, the temperature rises. Or maybe that’s your cheeks. Your heart is skipping like a third grader with a crush. You don’t know Kim Taehyung could make you feel this giddy still, one and a half years into your relationship. And as the chilling contrast of the band around your finger seeps into your bones, you realize you have a whole lifetime to worry about the effect his man has on your heart. And it doesn’t sound like a bad idea.

Spending the rest of your life with Kim Taehyung, that is.

“Taehyung,” you tug on his hand, “Don’t avoid mother just because of me.”

At the mention of Mrs. Kim, the man’s brows begin to knit but they relax again a moment later.

“Why? We don’t need anyone’s permission to be together.” He’s trying so hard to understand even though it’s him that was looking forward to last night’s dinner.

“I don’t want to marry you by stealing you away from mother,” it’s the way you gaze up at him with your sparkly eyes that makes Taehyung’s shoulderline sag; a telltale sign that he’ll fulfill your request however ridiculous it may be, “let’s schedule another dinner with mother soon.”

“I knew you were gonna say something like that,” he grumbles, not pleased but not so opposed to the idea.

He leans in, placing his forehead on yours as you close your eyes, “you’re too kind.”

A giggle escapes your lips as earlier memories of your relationship begins flooding your mind.

“I can be so mean sometimes.” You teasingly throw his words back at him.

“Selective assholery is different from being an all round asshole.” He justifies.

It’s almost ironic how Taehyung’s the embodiment of the grey line between ‘insanely supportive or blind’ that he once called you and Jeongguk. Yet your heart warms at the thought that there is someone in this world who knows your unflattering angles and loves you in spite of that.

It takes you one week to finish up a business proposal that usually should have taken six months. You’ve already had one planned out but in order to accommodate the changing partnership target, changes had to be made. Taehyung helps you review it whenever he comes back from work and brings you take outs from your favorite place.

Jeongguk helps out whenever he can even though he’s swamped with work as the new director of his family company. When the day of the meeting finally rolls around, you find yourself dressed in your best suit, blazer and trousers and all.

When you step out of your apartment building, your feet lightly skip to where Kim Taehyung is waiting, leaned up against his Ferrari with a matching coffee-colored suit that makes his chestnut hair appear lighter than they are.

The moment his eyes fall on you, a smile curls on his lips as if it’s second nature. It’s as if his heart is beating for you and you only.

“Ms. Kang,” he bows, opening the door for you.

You grin, “thank you.”

Today, Kim Taehyung self-declared that he’ll be acting as your bodyguard. Mrs. Kim is the one who told him to take the day off — eluding the fact that she knows it’s the day you’ll be meeting your long-term fiancée.

As soon as he starts up the car, you slip your hand in his, giving it an anxious squeeze to which he squeezes back assuringly. The folder with your drafted proposal lies in your lap, underneath your free hand where the diamond rings gleam and beams at you. Almost as though cheering for you and Taehyung’s future.

When he parks in front of the grand, sky-scrapped hotel with a crystal Lotus symbol on it, you think you peed a little in your pants and your stomach becomes queasy as if everything you ate last night is about to rise up your throat and stain your pretty pastel pink skirt.

“Maybe this is a bad idea,” you mumble underneath your breath.

But before you can get that thought screwed into your head, Kim Taehyung’s thumb and index finger traps you by your chin and turns your face to him.

A silly yet narcissistic grin curls on his lips, “look at this,” he casts his gaze down before it shoots back up to meet your eyes, “don’t you want to wake up to this for the rest of your life?” He adds a little eyebrow wiggle for extra effect.

And it works.

You laugh, not only because this so-called bodyguard is trying to seduce you into marrying him but also because you’re one step away from booking your fitting date and the grandest hall Seoul has to offer.

Lithe fingers snake up Taehyung’s torso, curling around his necktie and pulling him close enough for you to feel his shuddering breath, “tonight,” you lightly bite his lower lip, “I’m topping.”

And with that, you and Taehyung step into the vibrant lights and marble floors. You don’t even have to squint to see your red lips smiling back at you. The receptionist seems to have expected you even though the booking is under Park Seojoon’s name. Taehyung has his own table booked but man simply nods and leads you and Taehyung to the second floor where he shows Taehyung his table and you to yours.

But before you even reach the candle-lit table, both you and Taehyung share a look with each other as a familiar, idiotic man waves at you two haphazardly.

“Did you tell him?” You pull Taehyung to the side and whisper, cautious that Jeongguk is going to pop up behind you once he realizes you’re having a secret meeting without him.

Taehyung shakes his head no, “crossed my heart and hoped to die.”

“Okay, then who did?” Your eyebrows grow increasingly jointed.

“That would be me, I hope you don’t mind.” A rich and jovial voice chirps.

It turns out Park Seojoon was aware of your best friendship with Jeon Jeongguk and gave him a call, asking whether he’d be coming to the meeting as well. Someway somehow, word has it that you and Jeongguk are starting up a company together and Park Seojoon assumed that was why you called him.

“I admit, when I heard about you running away, I was glad.” He begins, seated across from you while staring at the two men two tables away from you with a romantic cityscape view while you’re stuck smack dab in the heart of the restaurant, “I’m sorry about Mrs. Kang.”

“I’m not,” you say pointedly. It came out harsher than you intended it. The topic about your stepmom is still a delicate one — only Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jeongguk have the privilege to mention it without you getting defensive.

“The reason I asked for a meeting— you must already know, Mr. Park.” You say a moment later, placing the sandy brown folder on the table and sliding it over to him, “I’m proposing a different kind of engagement.”

Park Seojoon nods, a pleasant smile on his lips. He begins flipping through the papers attentively. There’s something about him — slicked back midnight black hair, lush lips and a body that’s made for suit and ties — that has you acknowledging that if you didn’t meet Taehyung first, you would think he’s the one the gods love.

The minutes trickle by as you sit, posture lean and calm as you take little sips of the tequila with lime. Yet your body doesn’t allow you even the slightest bit of buzz. Something about sitting across a man who’s supposed to be your fiance, drinking alcohol while the love of your life is two tables away from you — doesn’t sit right with you.

You don’t know how long time passes — in reality, it’s probably been less than five minutes — when he finally looks up, eyes crinkling as he smiles, “I like it. But are you sure about giving Gyeona fifty percent?”

“It’s a fair price to pay for the future I’m building,” you shoot him an eased smile, “after all, I’m not going to stop with just a merger with Gyeona Corp.”

The man chuckles, “it sounds as if you’re bargaining with the villain that threatens to keep you and your boyfriend apart, Ms. Kang.”

“You have a vivid imagination, Mr. Park,” you effortlessly reply, “but he’s my actual fiance, not my boyfriend.”

A chortle leaves his mouth, head thrown back as if you’ve just said the greatest joke of all time. He stands up abruptly without even taking a sip of his wine and you do too, albeit almost toppling over the drink in your rush.

“My lawyer will be in contact with you soon,” he stretches out his hand and you take it, shoulderline finally relaxing.

You understand now why Park Seojoon is a force not to be reckoned with.

“Whew, he’s kinda dreamy, isn’t he?” Jeongguk comes to stand on your left while Taehyung stands on your right as you watch Park Seojoon’s back disappear past the grand mahogany doors.

“He’s practical.” You shrug.

“Looks like you had fun.” Taehyung comments backhandedly and you gasp, a hand on your chest as you look at him with disbelief.

“If by fun, you mean almost shitting my skirt every time he breathes a little louder than normal.” You huff.

“Uh, I think you just did shit your pants,” Jeongguk whistles, pinching the bridge of his nose and making a waving motion.

“Did you just look at my fiancee's ass? What is wrong with you? She’s your best friend.” Taehyung provocatively quizzes, yet his own hand hovering inches away from your rear is more concerning than Jeongguk playfully checking if there’s an unsightly brown spot on your skirt.

“Okay,” you squeak out, “getting weird now guys.”

“Me? You’re the one with your hand inches from her butt!” Jeongguk argues as if he didn’t hear you at all.

You make a beeline for the doors, bowing to the staff sheepishly but before they can bow back, you’re already ten steps away. As you wait for the elevator, you hear the two men’s arguing growing louder as they come to stand next to you. Taehyung, having the greater privilege to hug your waist, does just that while Jeongguk tugs on your wrist. You’ve long succumbed to the fact that you couldn’t escape these two idiots even if you tried. But when Jeongguk and Taehyung call your name at once, you think your soul just flew right out of your body.

“Choose.” The two voices declare just as the elevator dings and the door opens.

“Your best friend…” Jeongguk announces.

“Your fiance…” Taehyung drawls.

“Or this loser.”

You sigh in resignation. You don’t think you’re even walking as Taehyung drags you into the elevator and Jeongguk punches your designated floor which is the lobby.

The metal doors slide close.

The end.

Epilogue.

The temperature is oddly warm but Jennie and Jisoo already double checked: the aircon is in full blast.

“Well, someone has got to fix the damn thing because the bride’s makeup is this close to melting like the icebergs in the Arctic.” Lisa huffs, standing with her hands on her hips as the manager of the garden you booked, profusely apologizes.

“How’s this?” Yena bites her lips as she begins fluttering both her hands in your face.

“Thanks, Yena,” you smile, soul half-way from exiting your body.

“How’s my favorite best friend doing?” Jeongguk bursts through the door in the royal blue best man suit.

He’s been referring to you as his ‘favorite’ best friend since Taehyung is also his best friend. It happened someway down the line when you were cake-tasting and Taehyung blatantly rejected every single recommendation Jeongguk personally liked.

“Gguk, go get someone good with machines or we’re going to witness an iceberg getting married, by the time she reaches the aisle, ____’s going to be a melted puddle of makeup!” Jennie turns the man away as soon as he walks in.

“Wha— but she looks fine?” Before he can get any more arguments in, Jisoo is shutting the door in his face.

Jennie and Jisoo exchange smirks, “ugh, men.”

The only sane person here would probably be Rose. She disappeared for quite awhile and she’s finally back with a portable mini fan and holding it in your face. It’s not that it’s summer — in fact, it’s a little way over Spring and it was nice and chilly just yesterday, but all of a sudden, it’s like the power of a thousand suns is hovering over your head and radiating ultraviolet rays.

Once that passes, you suddenly feel like winter has blown over and you’re suddenly shivering in your heels. That is, until Jennie kneels down in her rose gold Oscar de la Renta and grips your hand tightly.

“Sweetie,” she begins, “if you wanna dip, say the word and we’ll cover for you.”

You blink, surprised and amused. You would have laughed if Rose, the sanest of all, didn’t just nod and blink both eyes as if to send you a hint.

It’s in that moment that your heart stills in a steady rhythm, almost as if — instead of your makeup — your worries melted away.

“I wanna see him, I miss him,” you murmur softly, picturing Taehyung's tousled hair and gentle eyes that make his smile all the more endearing.

Almost as if on cue, a shout echoes on the other side of the door. The girls exchange looks, as if silently deciding who should go and check.

After five solid seconds, Lisa sighs. “This better not be what I think it is.”

“—bad luck for a groom to see his bride before the wedding!” Jeongguk’s panicked voice pours into the room as soon as Lisa pushes the doors open.

Within the minuscule opening, your eyes catch Taehyung’s irritated ones. But as soon as they land on you, they soften like an ocean of stars.

Then, Lisa slams the door shut.

“Tell me you didn’t see him.” She looks straight at you with rounded eyes.

“Oh my god, close your eyes. Don’t open them till you get to the aisle!” Rose’s slender fingers flutter over your eyes but not quite touching them so you can still see the bouquet of pink roses in your lap and the reflection of her comically trying to get you to un-see Kim Taehyung.

“I don’t really believe in bad luck though…” you bargain but the half of the girls; Lisa, Rose and Jisoo are set on forcing you to keep your eyes closed until your father comes to take you down the aisle.

It takes a good five minutes of the superstition against logic believer’s argument before you finally hear the knock and your father’s raspy voice. His aged gaze is close to crying when he sees you and your stomach churns.

“I’ve failed you… I failed your mom,” he murmurs under his breath in front of the closed doors that separates you and your future groom.

“Is your leg alright?” You ask instead.

He passed his cane to Mr. Lee a minute ago once one of the ushers told you to get ready.

“I’m old, not a limp.” He says, almost defensively.

“You did fail my mom. But you didn’t fail me,” you acknowledge, “‘cause I stopped hoping for a normal family and a father the moment you told mom she did a ‘good job’ like she was some breeding machine.”

You can feel his arm tighten and his breath quicken a moment later.

“But I don’t hate you. I just don’t think too highly of filial bonds — this is the last time I’m letting you in my life, I want you to know that, father.” There’s no malice dripping off your tongue, not even the frost from the ice fortress.

That has long melted when Kim Taehyung stepped into your life.

“I see.” Is all his waning youth says.

The door opens and the sound of the piano begins to spill into the air. Petals scatter across the aisle as pink roses line down on either side. You spot Mrs. Kim at the front pew, smiling bigger than you’ve ever seen. Park Seojoon gives you a nod as you pass the pew where he sat with his parents.

The rest are faces you’ve worked with or are in a good business relationship with which includes the people you befriended in college. Most of them stepped up to invest in your startup with Gyeona Corp’s CEO a year ago.

Park Jimin winks at you when your eyes meet. He got disqualified as a groomsman when Taehyung heard about how he greeted you when you called to ask for Seojoon’s number. The two are still good friends though — you think.

Yoojung throws a complacent smile at you; a glaring contrast to the timid, never-sure-of-anything girl you knew back in college. Jeongguk told you some time ago they were dating. And you’re not too sure if they’re going to last but if there’s anything you know, it’s that you might just never know.

Speaking of Jeongguk, his sniffle rings in your ears when your father guides your hand to Taehyung’s arm. The two men seem to share an internal dialogue within the last moment your father’s hand lingers on yours. Then, he steps away, taking his seat next to Mrs. Kim, a vacant spot on his other side.

Kang Chohee was invited as a courtesy. But you made sure to include a personal letter warning her not to show her face at your wedding. Guess she’s smart enough not to think of you as a meek little girl anymore.

The second sniffle comes from Taehyung.

“Bro, stop crying.” Jeongguk nudges Taehyung’s side.

“I got dust in my eye,” the chestnut haired man tells you.

He got a trim as per the wedding suit designer’s recommendation. Though you wish he’d let his hair be, you both end up getting chided for being too lax at your once-in-a-lifetime ceremony.

Now Kim Taehyung stands in front of you, hair slicked back to perfection, revealing his smooth forehead. His eyes appear more liquid brown than gold, the telltale of tears glimmering like stars on the surface of a lake at midnight. He’s wearing a white suit with a black undersuit and white bowtie.

You think you hear Yoongi’s husky voice ask you if you would marry Taehyung but he continues to ask your groom after a heartbeat of your quietude — who can blame you? Kim Taehyung looks absolutely ethereal right now.

Taehyung holds back a grin as he hears Hoseok, Jeongguk and Lisa giggle while the rest somehow manage to suppress theirs. The idea of having Yoongi marry you comes from the long-running joke of when the boys snuck into an abandoned church and Taehyung sat in the confessional while Yoongi told him to confess.

“Alright, just kiss.” Yoongi declares.

Even if he wasn’t a real priest, your marriage papers are already signed and sealed.

“Looks like you’re trapped,” Taehyung whispers as he rests his forehead on yours.

“Trap is a strong word.” You giggle, “I love you, how can I feel trapped?”

Taehyung’s eyes widen as if he’s seen a ghost, then they prickle with tears before he leans to press his lips against yours, scooping you up in his arms and twirling you around. You tossed your bouquet in the air and Jennie screams in horror a second later.

You pull apart, your lace gloved hands cupping Taehyung’s handsome face. Just like the stars remain a constant in the cosmos you twine your arms around Taehyung’s shoulders and promise him your life and every reincarnation later.

Moodboards: college arc | after graduation arc | wedding

Note. thank you for reading, i hope it was enjoyable for you as it was enjoyable for me to write <3 oh! feel free to send me an ask about this fic or anything else <3

#bts fics #taehyung fics #jungkook fics #taehyung fic #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook fic #bts scenarios #taehyung smut #taehyung scenarios #bts fic #taehyung fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #taehyung imagines #jungkook imagines #ktheist

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